


Highway 20 Ride

by turningthepages



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Actor Dean Winchester, Adopted Children, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Breakup/Separation, Car Accidents, Dad!Dean, Divorce, Family, Fluff and Angst, Heartbreak, Hurt/Comfort, Jack is Adopted, M/M, Marriage Counseling, Singer Dean Winchester, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Working it Out, Writer Castiel (Supernatural), dad!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-23 09:17:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 50,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21317785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turningthepages/pseuds/turningthepages
Summary: Dean Winchester, actor turned musician, accepted what he thought was the job of a lifetime, his own show on Las Vegas Boulevard. However, Dean’s husband, Castiel, decided that the decision to move states despite Cas’s wishes was the last straw in their marriage. Unwilling to give up on their marriage, Dean gets Cas to agree to marriage counseling for one year before making a final decision. Now Dean is juggling a new job, living in the public eye, driving across state borders every other week to pick up their four-year-old son Jack, all while pouring his heart out at marriage counseling in hopes to keep Cas from signing away their life together. With his life seemingly falling to pieces around him, Dean has to work harder than he ever imagined to be the best version of himself he can, to be the husband and father Cas and Jack deserve.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Past Mary/John Winchester, past dean winchester/jo harvelle
Comments: 112
Kudos: 396
Collections: DCBB 2019





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know where to begin but I hope to keep this note short and simple. On the chance you've read any of my other works, I think it's a bit obvious that I love country music but there are some songs that have just always gripped my heart tighter than most and this one, without a doubt, is one of them. I have cried writing this story probably more than any of my other works combined, and I hope anyone reading it loves it as much as I do. 
> 
> Thank you to Hectatess for being kind enough to Beta for me (I'm sorry for making you cry). And a huge thank you to Huntress79 for choosing my story to create artwork for. Here is the [link to her pieces](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21341587), go give them some love!! 
> 
> Enjoy!  
<3 Paige

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# JoAnna Beth Harvelle and Dean Winchester split after 8 months of marriage.

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## Did Winchester cheat on the country singer?

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##### Winchester spotted with author CJ Novak months after split with Harvelle

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# Winchester and CJ Novak’s beach house rendezvous

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#### Two years after split from Harvelle, Dean Winchester is spotted with matching wedding bands with partner CJ Novak

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## Dean Winchester and spouse welcome a son after three years of marriage.

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##### Dean Winchester and CJ Novak seen with son on tropical vacation. Couple looked cozy together in private veranda.

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# Dean Winchester to have nightly performance at Las Vegas’s MGM Grand

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## Are Winchester and Novak splitting after 6 years?

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#### CJ Novak spotted sans wedding band.

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* * *

Endless, dry road lay ahead of him. The night grew darker as his truck sped down the highway away from the lights of the city that never sleeps towards the city of angels. It went on for miles ahead of him yet he still counted down each one, bringing him closer and closer with each passing minute. His heart knew the drive was worth it, coming instead of leaving, but it ached all the same knowing he’d have to turn back around at the end. His heart was waiting for him though, at the end of these 250 miles, waiting until he’d get to hold his favorite person—wrapped tight the way he’d been waiting for all week.

It’d never get easier making this drive, nor would it make it less worth it each time he had to turn around but he had accepted that this was his life now as much as he never wanted this for himself, let alone his kid. But he knew, without a doubt he’d make this drive each and every day for all of eternity if it meant he got to stay a part of his son’s life.

He’d do it without question, with a damn smile on his face, because no matter how much his heart broke over this exchange, his son’s face made him believe he’d survive it.


	2. Chapter 2

“Could you elaborate on that more for us Dean?” 

Pamela dawned her cautiously neutral voice, the one that made Dean instinctively believe she was annoyed with his shit. He knew she was meant to stay Switzerland between them but it grew harder and harder to deal with their group sessions when Dean always started feeling like an idiot halfway through. He just didn’t want to talk right now.

“I’d rather not.”

“Of course you wouldn’t.”

It was that grating, know-it-all attitude that had Dean seeing red. He didn’t know how much longer he could take listening to it. “You know what? Shove it Cas.”

“Dean, we’ve talked about this before please refrain from using such language in our sessions. Could you restate your frustration in a more plain statement?”

There he went again getting scolded for being too much of a ‘hot-head’ as his soon-to-be ex-husband often loved to point out during these sessions. He couldn’t even deny that Cas was right because it seemed every time Dean got remotely uncomfortable, he’d lash out. He needed to work on it, he _was_ working on it but when Cas was here it was more difficult.

He took a few steady breaths and thought about his words carefully, trying to remember what he and Pamela had practiced the few times he’d seen her privately.

“I’m pissed that Cas always thinks that he’s got the upper hand here. Sometimes I don’t want to share. But you know I do when it’s just me and you. It’s harder when he’s around.”

“Why is that?”

His initial reaction was to revolt from the prying question but he pushed through. It was progress to him whether or not Cas could see it as such.

“Why wouldn’t it be harder for me?” He asked rhetorically, looking towards Pamela for reassurance to keep speaking. “My husband is trying to leave me and every time I open my mouth he just seems to want to leave me even more. All I do is piss him off.”

“No. It _‘pisses me off’_ when you don’t even try to own up to your actions. You just keep blaming it all on me instead of accepting that you had a part in this.”

“I don’t want a divorce!” Dean shouted despite knowing he’d get scolded for it. “I don’t want to be going through any of this! You’re the one who asked for it. _You’re_ the one who chose to split up our family. Not me. If you don’t remember clearly I’m the one who had to beg you to even consider therapy before you signed our entire marriage away!”

The words threatened to close Dean’s throat. Each and every time he had to acknowledge that they were getting a divorce he felt searing pain down to his core. This was not what he wanted for them; this was not what he wanted for himself.

But Cas wanted it. Despite everything he said over their years of marriage, about loving Dean through the hard times, about never giving up on him, _Cas_ was the one giving it all up. And it hurt that he didn’t seem to be nearly as affected by it as Dean.

“You just don’t get it, do you?” 

Cas now had a habit of spitting out all his words, like it disgusted him to even be speaking with Dean.

It was hardly more than half a year ago that the sound of Cas’s voice alone made Dean feel like he was hypnotized. It was a sound he could listen to for hours, and he did whenever he had the occasion, but now that voice came out like venom.

“Oh I get it.” Dean snarled, unable to look Cas’s way. “You couldn’t support me in doing what I wanted to do so you chose to bail instead of trying to work this out.”

“Have you always been so selfish?” 

At Cas’s words Dean whipped his head to look towards the other end of the couch, the furthest possible position Cas could be from him. Those blue eyes that he’d fallen in love with—the ones he still was in love with—looked far from warm and loving. There was hatred and bitterness within them now. 

“It’s always, _always_ about you Dean. It’s always shoot first and ask questions later. You _never_ stop to think about how your choices would have any consequences and you _always_ expect me to just pick up the pieces and live with it.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“First it was dragging me away to Vegas to get married. You never even proposed.” Cas glared at Dean, clear resentment for their past experiences shining through. “Then we were moving out to California, leaving my entire family behind. Then you were signing a two-year long contract without even so much as asking if I wanted to make another big move. You’ve never put me first. It’s always your dreams and your ambitions.”

“That’s not true!”

“It is. You’re just too blind to see it.”

* * *

* * *

He drifted through the hallways, unaware of his surroundings, though the humming in his ear told him someone was speaking to him. He tried, he _tried_ to register any of the words that were spoken but he couldn’t. His mind wasn’t fully there and he knew it would be nearly impossible to sit through the upcoming meeting he was required to attend.

Those god awful, gratingly long meetings were his least favorite part of the job. Sitting in a room with random people who spoke about him as if he wasn’t there, deciding “great career opportunities” for him without his input, and speaking to him as if they had to walk on eggshells around him in order to remain on his good side—it made him wish he’d never gotten into this life.

Years ago it had felt like a dream to be surrounded by people paid to work for him and make him more famous. It was surreal to have companies flocking him to get his face on their products and songwriters sucking up to him just to have him sing their songs. But now it felt suffocating to be around it all.

If he heard “but it’s a smart career move, Dean” one more time he was going to flip his lid.

It’s not that he wasn’t grateful for the people whom he worked with but things had changed for him. He was in a new city, with a slightly new team, and down his most reliable sounding board. Without Cas, Dean wasn’t sure which way was up for him in more ways than one and his career was one of those areas.

Yeah, the things his team suggested did seem smart with the way they tried to sell it but he’d never really been good at sifting through all those small-scale jobs. Should he take the Tom Ford commercial or the Calvin Klein ad? Did he want to make a single with an R&B artist or did he want to partner up with someone in his genre?

It had always been Cas who helped sort out the right choices. Not that Dean didn’t make good career moves for himself but with Cas he was able to say no to the ones that didn’t spark his creative side as much—with just himself he had a harder time saying no.

Which is why his head was swarming with decisions right now, making it impossible to hear anything his assistant was rapidly spit firing at him about his next few weeks.

“Say that again Charlie.”

“Right, sorry. I’m speaking too fast again. I said your meet and greet sold out for the next three days.”

The redhead paused this time to make sure Dean acknowledged the bit of information. He nodded with his words, “It’s a three-day weekend, that’s usual.”

“You’ve also got a full house the next two weekends.”

“You’re serious?”

He turned to her with a scowl on her face but tried to hide in when she cowered at his side.

“Uh—yes, yes, sir.”

“You know not to call me that Charlie.” He really was trying to not be snappish with her but the effort it took to be cheerful all the time cost him too much energy.

“Sorry Dean.”

“I have Jack next week,” he sighed as he wrung his fingers through his hair. “I hate when I have a full house when I have him. It makes me so fucking exhausted.”

“Your fans will understand if you’re tired. They love hearing you talk about your time with him.”

Dean bristled but didn’t correct her. If she wanted to think that he was more concerned about letting down his fans over letting down his son then she could just get in line with the other people in his life who thought the same about him.

He’d never say that he was the most well-known actor-turned-singer in existence but he was reasonably well known. Starting at fourteen when a local magazine asked him to model for a few of their articles, things took off for him when the people he worked with seemed to think he had ‘the look’ and booked him for a handful of gigs.

At that age he thought it was the coolest thing to make money off of people thinking he was hot so he figured, why not? His dad hadn’t been thrilled by the idea but when his mom worked out just how much money they’d be able to put aside for his college (little did she know at the time), it made the old man come around to it.

Gig by gig he worked his way up from modeling to local acting stints in commercials and other advertisements before he’d somehow managed to snag himself a spot on a highly unrecognizable Soap series. From there things only looked up.

Women loved his look and casting agents couldn’t seem to turn him down so role after role he kept getting bigger but it wasn’t until a teenage sci-fi book series turned TV show cast him as the lead that he was finally boosted to a household name.

He was eighteen at the time.

Five seasons of the show came and went but the opportunities once it wrapped seemed endless to him. He was approached by more people than he knew what to do with but what surprised him most were the music options he now had.

His character on Unnatural had been a guitarist by day and a monster hunter at night and since Dean wasn’t about to let someone voice-over for him, he had to work on his singing chops which, turned out, he wasn’t so bad at. In fact, people actually _liked_ him.

One thing led to another and he wound up in an honest to goodness rock-musical movie and that was it... his singing took off.

He never actually committed to one particular genre though most would consider him a mix between country and rock but his style pulled people in more than he expected it to.

As he got his bearings in the music industry he’d worked with many talented songwriters and producers, gaining himself some sort of notability in the business. There were some people (even still) who didn’t believe he was a real artist—who harped on him for taking the ‘easy way’ into becoming a musician and said the only reason people gave him a chance was because of his good looks.

He knew where they were coming from. He _had_ gotten lucky on his path to where he was but he put in the work too and fell in love with music in ways his teenage self never imagined he could. He practiced often and worked on his skills until he didn’t have to rely on songwriters all the time and came up with originals—ones that had made it onto the top 100 charts despite his lack of ‘real music skills.’

He was fortunate, more so than he deserved. He had his music and some acting gigs whenever a part called out to him and not to mention he now had a spot in Vegas. 

He wasn’t as big a name as the other headliners and he didn’t bring as many fans but he was a steady figure there now and would be for the better part of the next two years. It was a dream come true for many musicians to earn a living off their art and here he was with their dream as his reality. He had a fancy setup and a whole slew of people at his disposable and he was supposed to be having the time of his life.

And he would have been… if it hadn’t cost him his family.


	3. Chapter 3

The week had drained him. He didn’t know how other people did this show after show, night after night and he wasn’t even a nightly performer.

Still, it’d been a long ass week and he finally made it to Friday—the day he got to drive home. His chest ached with his need to get a hug from his son but he knew only four hours stood between him and that moment.

It also stood between now and the moment he could see Cas again.

A part of him wished that the feeling would go away—that the fluttering in his stomach and the thrumming in his chest wouldn’t exist anymore when he was about to see his husband. But wasn’t that what he was fighting for? He _loved_ Cas and even with therapy and the separation he’d never just stop loving the guy.

Maybe his heart hadn’t gotten the memo that Cas didn’t feel that same wave of contentment that washed over Dean every time Cas opened the door but hopefully soon it would.

And if it didn’t—and Cas decided to go through with finalizing the divorce—well then Dean prayed to anything that would listen to him to grant him some mercy and let his heart realize that he had to let Cas go.

(He prayed harder that that wouldn’t happen.)

He tried not to noticeably heave a sigh as Castiel opened the door. Donning his most winning smile, he collected himself when that persistent wild hair and unavoidable five o’clock shadow came into view.

Deep circles were under the other man’s ocean blue eyes and his hair was disheveled more than the last time Dean had seen him, yet he still looked beautiful. It took every ounce of strength to refuse the instinct to reach out and smooth the strands down, run his fingers through the rich chocolate locks like he’d spent so many hours before doing. It took more strength than Dean felt he had to not outwardly show his love for the other man, even with his heart still fractured. 

Luckily he resisted his own desires and by the look on Cas’s face it was best that Dean had his sense about him today.

“Hello Dean,” the man grumbled emotionlessly. By the far off look in his eyes and the slight downturn of a scowl, Dean knew something was wrong. This was the Cas-face for when something was bothering him but was trying to bottle it up. This was the face that Dean used to instinctively know he’d be spending hours trying to coax an explanation from the other man and knew he’d spend hours hearing the same frustratingly flat, ‘I’m fine.’ 

Out of habit he felt the words ‘what’s wrong’ at the tip of his tongue but knew where they were at in their relationship would wield him zero chance of getting an actual answer. 

That knowledge didn’t stop him from wanting to reach out and pull Cas into his arms like he’d been longing to do—to see that look be completely erased from his husband’s face. He shook the thoughts out of his mind and peered around Cas’s shoulder into their—Cas’s—home, looking for their son. The safest topic he could think to ask about.

“Hey. He ready?”

Cas almost seemed shocked that Dean was speaking and seemed to snap out of his mind, turning around as he rasped, “Yes. Let me get his stuff.”

Dean crossed the threshold just enough to step into the foyer where Cas already had Jack’s small Avengers suitcase ready and his pillow and blankie folded neatly on top. Just as the silence between the two of them tipped onto the side of uncomfortable a small tornado came whirling through the hallway and straight into Dean’s legs with a force. 

“Daddy! I miss you!”

“Oof, there’s my big man.” Dean’s heart was fit to burst at the way his kiddo still sounded so damn excited to see him. He bent down to scoop him into his arms and crush him in a hug, breathing in the scent of his bubblegum soap. “I missed you so much. Have you and Papa been having so much fun?”

“Yeah! He took me to the park and I went so high and we played tag and I felled down but Papa got me cookies and say I big boy and we watch cars because you love cars and—“

“Whoa! It’s sounds like you’ve had an awesome week.”

“Yeah but I miss you.” Jack’s smile was still bright as he snuggled his head back into the crook of Dean’s neck, wrapping his little arms around Dean with might. 

“I know buddy, but now we get to spend some time together. Are you ready?”

It didn’t take long to get Jack strapped into his car seat and a movie on the DVD player of the truck after Cas gave their son a few goodbye hugs and kisses. Once both he and Cas were sure their kid was set, he closed the door and moved towards the driver’s side.

As usual Cas stood around making sure they were both set but this time he didn’t turn around and go back to the house without a goodbye.

Dean _almost_ let himself hope that Cas wanted to talk with him outside of therapy and if it weren’t for the look in Cas’s eyes then he might have actually let the hope win.

But the way Castiel scowled at him now told Dean that no miracle would happen—that the amount of times they’d had a proper conversation since separating would still be easily counted on one hand.

He smiled softly at the other man nonetheless.

“Hey, you good?”

Cas nodded grimly before looking Dean sternly in the eye.

Dean knew the words Cas was about to say were not going to be pleasant and he wasn’t wrong.

“Look Dean, I know you’re the ‘fun parent’ between us but please make sure he goes to bed on time. His bedtime is nine. Not whenever you want it to be”

His heart beat heavily in his chest but he squashed his temper down, not wanting to cause an argument.

“I will,” he promised doing his best to be civil.

He knew Jack needed to go to bed early and he really did try to stick by it. He couldn’t help it that Jack always woke up when Dean got back from his shows and wouldn’t settle down quickly no matter how hard Dean tried. Cas wouldn’t understand even if he tried to explain… so he didn’t bother.

“I mean it Dean,” Cas proclaimed exasperatedly, “I can’t keep staying up with him until midnight when he comes home from your house. I have an actual grown up job that I need to be at work by eight. I can’t infinitely run off of a few hours of sleep.”

He nodded, still fighting the urge to argue. He knew if he said something rude now it’d be thrown back in his face at therapy and he really was trying to avoid something like that.

He’d try. He’d do his best to do as Cas requested and figure out other tricks to get his kid to go to sleep and stay asleep. Yeah, he didn’t love that Jack had to go down with a babysitter and that Dean couldn’t be the one tucking him in but that was only for two maybe three nights out of their week together. He could deal with giving up three nights… maybe.

He’d have to do it, if only to make Cas stop looking at him like that.

He could be the reliable guy Cas needed him to be.

“Cas, I get it. I do,” he agreed placatingly, hoping it showed his husband that he was compromising. 

“Then please follow through.”

Nothing other than ice swirled through Cas’s features and Dean felt the knot that’d been in his stomach since Cas first uttered the words ‘divorce’ deepen even further.

* * *

* * *

“I feel like you think I’m a bad dad.”

It was too difficult to look up as he said it, choosing to look at the corner of the coffee table instead.

He knew he’d been uncharacteristically silent during this session but he didn’t know what he should say.

He’d had a long few weeks. Between his sold-out shows, meet and greets, few but eager fans waiting for him after, making sure to get as much time with his son, and the inevitable wrath of Cas when Jack came home bouncing off the walls… again, it’d been a long few weeks. 

He really had tried this time. The first night he’d worked he fought every instinct in his body to walk into Jack’s room and instead settled into bed without saying goodnight to his son. That only gifted him with his four-year-old climbing into his bed at five in the morning chatting his head off until Dean managed to get him to take a nap a few hours later. The next two nights he’d crawled into bed with his kid, hoping that the little man would model after Dean and actually fall asleep. That didn’t work either.

He tried to keep Jack from falling asleep on the car ride home but he didn’t have the willpower to keep his cranky kid up any longer than he needed to, not with how miserable it made him.

It didn’t matter that he’d tried because in Cas’s eyes he failed at his single task.

There was no point in trying to explain this to his husband. There was no point in trying to make himself look better when the anger had already surfaced and now it was coming out at their meeting where Cas had spent the better part of the last fifteen minutes scolding Dean for being irresponsible and unreliable. 

He felt it hot in his belly, the feeling of _unworthiness_ he’d grown used to. In his gut he knew Cas thought he was a bad dad and now Dean was just proving him right. 

“What? Why would you say that?”

The words came out sounding shocked but Dean didn’t think Cas would just flat out admit or agree to Dean’s assumption when they were in front of Pamela. And even though Cas probably wouldn’t admit it, Dean felt a pull to explain himself, if not to Cas then to Pamela whom he was actually trying to get better at opening up with. 

“The other week you got on my ass about making sure I knew Jack’s bedtime and then a few days later you called to remind of his allergies and what detergent I need to wash his clothes in.”

That had stung at the time. Seeing Cas’s picture light up his screen Dean’s heart had soared, wondering if Cas was calling just to talk, hoping that he was missing Dean’s voice as much as Dean was missing his. Instead he’d been called only as a reminder of things he already knew, things so engraved in his soul he didn’t think he’d ever forget. As if he hadn’t been raising his kid for the past four years. 

Of course he remembered his son was allergic to gluten, he’d spent days bringing the boy to and from the pediatrician as they tested him for food allergies. Of course he remembered the boy couldn’t eat any tree nuts or products with tree nuts in them because Dean remembers the day his baby ended up in the ER after tasting pecan pie for the first time. He’d made a hell of a lot of mistakes in his life but putting his son’s safety at risk was not going to be one of them. 

He breathed through the temper that was rising inside him, wanting to yell at the other man for making him feel this way but knowing it would yield no positive results. 

“I don’t know when I went from being someone you could rely on with our kid to being someone you hardly trust more than a babysitter but I know these things and I try to do the best I can. My babysitter has a giant printed paper on the fridge that says exactly what Jack can and can’t eat and I always go through his nighttime routine with him when I don’t have a show and Alex has it written out for her too.”

“Then why is he always bouncing off the walls when he comes home to me? It’s like you let him sleep whenever he feels like it and do whatever the hell he wants.”

Dean understood, he did, because if the roles were reversed and Jack was a tornado during the night when Dean needed to sleep for work… it’d suck. But he wasn’t doing it to make Cas’s life miserable and he needed his husband to know that.

He was trying that god awful honestly thing. He took a breath and steeled himself for a negative response, even knowing his honest words might not be enough to make this version of his husband understand.

“It’s ‘cause when I get home after every show I go in and give him a kiss. You know he’s a light sleeper; he wakes up from it immediately but dammit Cas I can’t just not give my kid a kiss.” 

His emotions threatened to do him in and he had to bite his lip in order to keep his lip from quivering. “I miss him when I’m working and I just—I try and get him to go back down but he just wants to talk to me. And I _miss_ him. I miss him so fucking much I can’t say no.”

Traitorous tears filled his eyes as he let the words leave his mouth. There was nothing, _nothing_ worse than not being able to see his own child every day. Four years ago, having that baby placed in his arms and looking down at that tiny face and realizing that his heart no longer belonged to him but to that tiny human, he saw his whole world wrapped up in that blanket. 

He never wanted to be apart from his kid. He never thought when they talked about bringing a family into their lives that it would ever come to this and he was woefully unprepared for how it would feel.

If the look on Cas’s face was anything to go by, he understood exactly what Dean meant.

“Dean you could have just told me that.”

“Could I have?” Dean asked, still overwhelmed with his emotions.

“Of course.”

“Cas you’re—” He swiped at his face trying to bat away the tears. “I just… I just don’t feel like you’re really that understanding. Not anymore.”

“Excuse me? I am absolutely understanding. How could you say that?”

“It’s just—” He sighed realizing that his words hadn’t come out the way he meant them to. “It’s just that you keep making a lot of assumptions these days. You’re so smart—god you’re so smart—but sometimes it seems like you think you’re the smartest person in the room and already know what everyone's thinking or wants to say.”

He paused, wondering if he was backing himself into a corner but a quick glance at Pamela and her encouraging nod had him continue.

“I just feel like you think I’m out to get you by keeping Jack awake at night or doing something with him you wanted to do—like seeing that movie you wanted to take him to. I just… I dunno. I wish you’d just ask what’s going on instead of getting so mad at me without hearing my side, you know? I just want you to trust me with him again.” 

Cas was silent for a long time, but not long enough for Pamela to intervene. With the way he wrung his fingers together Dean knew his husband was upset with himself. 

“You’re right,” The other man breathed. “I guess I just—I guess I just assumed it wasn’t as hard for you as it is for me to be away from him. Then when I do have him it’s hard for me to work and be a parent and not have a partner around to help anymore.”

Remorse was heavy in Cas’s eyes. “It was unfair of me and I’m sorry I’ve made you feel inadequate in your parenting but Dean, never for one moment have I thought of you as a bad parent. You are, and always have been _amazing_ with our son and I do trust you with him—over anyone in this world. That won’t change.”

His desire to hug Cas was stronger than ever, his _need_ to feel the reassuring pressure of Cas’s lips against his made him ache. Only Cas could soothe the crack in his chest.

“Thank you.” Dean replied sincerely, for it was all he was allowed to say anymore.

_I love you,_ still flowed through his soul.


	4. Chapter 4

He was settling into the couch for the night, ready to watch Dr. Sexy to his heart’s content before he had to call Charlie to talk about some work things, when his phone rang on the coffee table. With a quick glance at the caller ID he snatched it up with a smile on his face and settled back into the comfort of the cushions.

“Hey Sammy.”

“Hey, when’s mom coming to see you?”

“I’m doing well, thanks for asking. How are you doing, Samuel?”

His brother laughed over the line.

“Sorry. Sorry. I’m just looking at flights. Wanted to see if I could swing a quick trip.”

It’d been too long since Dean had seen his brother, he felt. With Sammy living in Northern California it wasn’t quite convenient to drive the additional four hours just to see him for less than a day. Sometimes they’d plan to meet somewhere in the middle but with everything going on in their lives, those days were rare. 

It just so happened that in a few weeks Sam was going to make the move down to Southern California after deciding to switch firms. Now Sam, his mom, and Jack would all be within a few miles from one another and Dean honestly couldn’t wait…. If only he wasn’t a whole state away.

To be honest, he was shocked that his brother was willing to make a quick trip out to Vegas given the fact that he needed to pack up his apartment and move but Dean wasn’t about to look that gift horse in the mouth.

“Mom said she’d be in on the 8th.”

There were a few unintelligible mumbles as Sam read what Dean assumed was the computer screen.

“Perfect! Just booked it. You cool with me crashing with you?”

“Duh.”

“You have Jack that weekend?”

“Yup. Made sure with Cas anyway.”

It was the one thing they actually communicated with each other on, who got to have Jack and when. The majority of the time they followed the same pattern, switching every other week, but did have to shuffle things around a bit near the holidays. As of right now, with no holiday in sight, they were solid in their weekly routine.

“Cool. Anyway, now that that’s out of the way, how are you Dean?”

He smiled despite himself thinking back to their session with Pamela yesterday.

“I’m alright. We actually—uh—we had a good session yesterday.”

Sam’s voice tilted upward as he asked, “Yeah?”

This feeling in his stomach took him back to his high school days when he’d get twitter patted over his crush just looking at him. Now, in his thirties he was back to the butterflies just because his husband had said nice things…

Oh well. He was gonna make his brother listen to him gush anyway.

“He was still pissed at me about Jack staying up too late with me so we talked about it and… he said some nice things—he—he said he still thinks I’m a good dad and stuff. I dunno, I felt good going out of there. Like actual progress.”

“I’m happy for you.” Sam responded genuinely, “That’s really good to hear.”

“Yeah… yeah.” He smiled to himself, thinking. He didn’t want to feel as hopeful as he did but, at the moment, he couldn’t help it. What if they really were on the right path to getting back to normal? “It’s good.” Suddenly he wondered, “Have you… have you talked to him?”

“Not since last week. I’ll probably reach out to him on Tuesday and see if I can watch Jack since I have the day off.”

He tried not to ask too many questions. He knew Sam and Cas were still friends, still hung out sometimes, though Sam made it seem like it was substantially less since Cas asked for a divorce. Dean figured they probably never talked about the divorce or anything too sensitive but he knew Cas let Sam see Jack as often as he wanted.

It made Dean a little jealous, knowing his brother got to see his son when Dean had to wait over a week to be able to do so. He couldn’t complain too much though. The schedule they maintained worked for him and Cas, and it was generous of Cas to even agree for Dean to have Jack one whole week at a time. It would’ve been rough on the little guy to make such long drives only to have a weekend with Dean and turn right back around. It still wasn’t ideal that Jack had to understand, at the age of four, that he had two homes now and not just one. The kid was adaptable though, for better or worse.

“Yeah? What’re you going to do with him?” Dean asked, keeping the conversation flowing. He didn’t want to get off the phone with his brother quite yet.

“I was thinking, water park,” the other man replied gleefully. “They have a new splash pad there that I think he’d like.”

Dean could picture Jack running through the water, his squeals of delight as he got sprayed with water. It was absolutely right up Jack’s alley and Dean knew it would be a great day for his kid and brother. 

“Make sure you send pictures,” he requested, trying to not feel jealous that he wouldn’t be there. 

“Trust me, I will.”

Dean smiled despite wishing he could tag along. At least he’d get pictures of their day. 

Regretfully he looked at the time and noticed he had to hang up even though he could easily talk to his brother for hours more not just because his brother was his best friend but because Dean didn’t have anyone to really talk to anymore--not about day to day garbage. 

“Okay, well, I have a phone call with Charlie in a bit but I’ll call you in a few days,” he made the last part sound like a question, hoping his brother wouldn’t be too busy for a phone call later. 

He could hear a smile in Sam’s voice as the other man said, “Sounds good, I’ll see you in a few weeks. Later, jerk.”

“Later, bitch.”

When the call ended, Dean sat on the couch and stared at the screen wishing he wasn’t relegated to calling his family when he wanted to talk to them. He’d taken it for granted when they had all relocated to California and he knew the next few weeks waiting to get his mom and brother out there were going to feel like a million years. 

He huffed, cursing himself for the millionth time for being such an idiot. He was the reason he was so lonely. What right did he have to throw himself a pity party? 

Trying to bury those thoughts for the time being, he found Charlie’s name in his contacts and pressed call. 

He could pity himself later.

* * *

* * *

The drive up was as bland as each and every drive he made back home. Each cactus, each long stretch of dirt, each rest stop he zoomed past started to make the miles drag on. He knew those landmarks, he knew the hours in between until he made it to the next landmark, the ones that brought him closer to his son but separated them all the same. This drive ate at him, wearing him thin each week he made it. He couldn’t imagine the toll it was taking on Jack.

The times they were in the car Dean did his best to entertain his boy. He had movies ready, they listened to Jack’s favorite songs and sang super loudly to them, they played I-Spy and Twenty questions, and they talked about everything they could think of—still, four hours one way was a lot.

Dean had been thinking more and more recently about getting a place that was more midway but knew that wouldn’t solve the problem. He still worked in Las Vegas for two to three nights out of the week, where was Jack supposed to go when Dean worked? Logistically it didn’t make sense and kept him right at square one, making this drive and counting down the miles until he felt whole again.

There was nothing he wouldn’t do for Jack, nothing in the universe, and he was so blessed to have such a mellow kid who didn’t seem to mind the long journeys with his daddy.

Just a few more miles to go.

The last few minutes of the drive felt like the longest but he had a smile on his face as he jumped out of the car and skipped up to the front door, ringing the doorbell on the house he once felt a part of. 

He waited longer than usual for Cas to open the door and when he did, Dean could tell something was off. His husband hardly looked up at Dean before he heard a cry of, “No!! No Papa no! I don’t wanna go.”

“Jack, look, it’s daddy!” Cas pointed out cheerfully, trying to nudge the little boy forward who was gripping at his pant leg. 

“What’s wrong buddy?” Dean asked, bending down to the boy’s level trying to use his more comforting voice. 

Jack looked like he wanted nothing to do with Dean and hid his face in Cas’s pant leg, rubbing his snotty nose into the folds. 

“Let’s get your things honeybee,” Cas suggested, trying to back away towards where Jack’s things were strewn together. 

“No! Papa no! I don’t wanna!” 

Traitorous tears threatened to make their appearance as Dean tried to donn his best smile and reach his arms out to his son. “Hey, come on buddy. It’s daddy, we’re going to have a good time. I got us a new Lego set we can build together.”

It felt so wrong not having Jack run down the stairs screaming “daddy,” like he always did. It was the first time he’d seen his son actually run away from him instead of straight into his arms. He nearly didn't know what to do. He looked to Cas helplessly but the other man had turned his attention towards finishing packing Jack’s bag. 

For the first time in months Dean ventured further than the front door to go get his son. Making it through those hallways, still lined with pictures of the three of them stirred up feelings Dean was more than willing to shove down, setting his sights on his kid’s room.

There he’d found his son hiding next to his toys, uncoaxable even with Dean’s gentlest voice.

“What’s wrong buddy? Are you sad?” 

His son scrunched himself further into a ball and hid his face from Dean’s view. It was a pitiful sight and Dean hated every moment of it. He knelt down, ignoring the strain in his knees and tried to run his fingers through Jack’s wild hair. But his kid was having none of it and flung himself away from Dean and ran back towards the stairs. 

He knew he was going to cry as he hauled himself off the floor and made it back downstairs where he saw Jack clinging to Cas like his life depended on it. 

Dean could feel his heart breaking into a million pieces. 

No matter what he said Jack couldn’t be coaxed away from Cas, clinging to him like Dean was dragging him away. “No!! I don’t wanna! No. Papa!!”

“Jack, come on buddy.” Dean felt helpless with his arms outstretched but no child running into them. Cas told him over their son’s protests that Jack had been having a bad week but Dean didn’t think that would result in his kid being revolted to see him. His buddy was _always_ happy to see him.

The ache in his chest clenched like a noose. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do. If Jack didn’t want to go with him, he couldn’t force him. Should he leave? Should he go see Sam and hope that Jack would change his mind by the morning?

He was certain he looked like he’d been punched in the gut as he tried to stand up, blinking back tears that were rushing to the corners of his eyes.

He was embarrassed too, without a doubt, knowing that Castiel must be relishing in Dean’s distress. It probably made the other man impossibly happy to know that he was the parent Jack preferred—he was the parent that Jack would want to stay with permanently.

Only, Cas didn’t tell Dean to go. He took pity on him instead, kneeling down to Jack’s level and running his fingers through the soft blonde hair. “Honeybee, it’s alright. It will be so much fun when you go with Daddy he’s really, really been missing you.”

Snotty tears didn’t stop as Jack threw his arms around his father and wailed, “Papa!!”

What could Cas even say to that? Jack clearly didn’t want to be with Dean and he knew his husband wasn’t going to force their kid to go.

He felt like a failure. _This_ was exactly what he’d been terrified of happening. He knew sooner or later his kid would be done with Dean dragging him all over the place and would be over the long drives. How the boy had even lasted this long was a surprise.

It all had been too good to be true.

But Cas still didn’t give up, shocking Dean.

“Let’s get you into the car. Come on. Don’t make daddy sad.” Cas mumbled as he managed to haul Jack into his arms and headed towards the door. Dean was left to grab his son’s things and follow like a lost puppy behind them.

The crying didn’t stop as Cas struggled to buckle the toddler into his car seat, still wailing that he wanted to stay with Cas.

“Hush, honeybee, you’ll have so much fun. What movie do you want to watch?”

“No!”

“Do you want to listen to daddy’s music?”

“No!”

“I love you. I will see you in a few days, okay?”

“No! Papa! I wanna stay!”

“Shh, here’s your blankie. Rest your eyes for a little, okay? I love you.”

It was evident that Cas struggled shutting the door on their child’s cries but didn’t give in to letting Jack stay.

Dean didn’t know what to do. He stood staring at Cas for a moment before he nodded, tense with anxiety over Jack’s reaction, but got into the truck nonetheless.

“Ready to go buddy?”

Jacks’ cries were the only answer he got in return.

He tried to set up a movie quickly before he put the truck in drive, white knuckling the steering wheel to keep his emotions in check.

The movie selection only seemed to make Jack wail louder and the songs Dean tried to play in their place just made it worse. He kept kicking at his seat and yelling for his Papa and Dean couldn’t take it. His heart was broken. He couldn’t drag his kid off with him when it made Jack so stressed.

He turned the truck around and went straight back home—Cas’s home.

Jack didn’t want to be held as Dean made it back to the front door with his kid’s things in tow. The boy didn’t bother waiting for Cas to open the door, instead just let himself back in and running straight to his other father.

Cas was sitting on the couch with a book in his hand as Jack clambered into his lap, snuffling into Cas’s t-shirt. Despite his confusion Cas automatically set the book down and began comforting Jack, smoothing his hand up the little boy’s back and hushing him softly. He looked up over their son’s head at Dean.

“What’s going on?”

“I—I don’t think today’s a good day. He—he doesn’t want to be with me. I’m just—I’ll try again tomorrow.” 

A deep frown etched Cas’s face, “Dean, he’s just having a bad day.”

“I know but I don’t want him to be miserable with me.”

Cas’s eyes softened.

“Let me talk to him.”

He appreciated Cas’s effort, really, but Dean didn’t see the point. Cas had already tried talking with Jack and all that got them was an emotional breakdown. The last thing Dean wanted was for Jack to feel as if they were forcing him to go somewhere he didn’t want to be. It hurt enough to have to come back here and admit defeat. He didn’t want to have another round of hearing just how much his son didn’t want to be with him anymore.

“I’m just gonna head out, okay?”

“No—stop.” Cas heaved himself off the couch with Jack securely in his arms. “Let me talk to him. Just wait in the car okay? I’ll talk to him.”

Dean watched as Jack hid his face further in Cas’s neck, refusing to even make eye contact with Dean. It _killed_ him.

“Cas, he doesn’t want to go with me. I’m not gonna force him.”

“He does want to. He’s been asking about you all week, he’s just been feeling bad the past couple of nights and not sleeping. You know he gets clingy. Just give me a little with him.”

The mixture of anger and pity roaring through him was hard to stamp down. He was angry at himself for failing his kid, angry at Cas for making him stretch out the inevitable, and miserable at the fact that this was all his fault.

Before Dean could deny Cas’s request he heard himself meekly saying, “Fine.”

“Wait in the car.”

Without another word he shuffled back out the front door and down steps towards the driveway. His limbs felt like sludge as he hoisted himself into the truck and slumped over the steering wheel. A lump lodged in his throat as he tried to get himself to breathe normally but it was useless. _He_ was useless. His own son didn’t even want to be with him. He was losing his whole family and he just—he couldn’t take it!

Only when he felt the stinging on his palm did he realized he’d been smacking the steering wheel in desperation, cursing himself for being such a fuck up. A fuck up of a husband, a fuck up of a father—of course his family didn’t want him anymore.

He didn’t know what he was going to do. If Jack didn’t want to be with him anymore, what would he have to look forward to anymore? Being with his son was the only thing that got him through all this. The feeling of suffocation was too much. This couldn’t happen. This couldn’t be happening.

A soft knock on his window broke him from his tears and struggled to swipe at his face and hide the evidence. Quickly, he fumbled out of the truck, trying not to look his husband in the eye but Cas was courteous enough to not mention anything.

Almost inexplicably, but mostly likely due to Cas’s soft words, Jack had finally calmed down and flipped a near complete 180 on his mood. He was still acting shy, clutching at Cas’s pant leg but he frowned when he saw Dean’s tear-tracked cheeks. 

“You sad daddy?”

He knew his smile was weak and there was no point in lying to his son, “Yeah. I was sad buddy.”

“I sorry. I go with you. We play Legos and go on the jump-jump.”

Kneeling down to eye-level, Dean forced more cheerfulness into his voice, “Yeah? You wanna go on the trampoline with me?”

“Yeah!”

He pulled Jack into the tightest hug he could manage, shoving down the emotion that was fighting to come back. He looked up over his son’s shoulder at his husband and whisper a feeble ‘thank you,’ not quite knowing how to express what it meant that Cas would do that for him. Cas accepted the words with a nod before he helped their son get in the car.

The second time around was much smoother sailing, Jack even asked to sing some of Dean’s songs with him.

Dean’s heart still ached when he thought about how upset Jack had been. He wondered if this would be his future if he and Cas did decide to finalize their divorce, a future where his son dreaded seeing him and Dean would only be able to spend time with the boy after Cas bribed him somehow.

Not for the first time he wondered how his life came to this.

* * *

He didn’t let what happened at the house bring him down while he was spending time with Jack. Instead, he did his best to push all the negative thoughts out of his mind and soak up his time with his favorite four-year-old.

“Daddy! Daddy! Watch me!”

From his spot on the bench Dean opened his eyes even wider at his son, letting the kid know that he hadn’t, for a second, stopped watching him.

“I’m watchin’ buddy.”

Dean’s cheeks pulled tight as Jack rushed past him with clenched fists, breathing heavily through his teeth in a mimic of the runners they’d seen go by the park.

“Did you saw? I was fast!”

“You were so fast! I think you’d beat me in a race.”

“Can we race daddy?”

Dean had already spent the better part of the morning chasing his ever-energetic child around playing tag but he was never one to turn down a request for playtime.

“Of course we can.”

For what it’s worth, and possible a little regrettably, Dean didn’t have to try too hard to let his son win. The kid had some speedy little legs which probably had to do with the fact he liked joining his Papa on runs on the weekends.

Falling into the grass to catch his breath, Dean huffed when Jack landed on top of him. “Woah dude, you’re gonna be a runner when you’re older, you know that?”

“Yeah like Papa!”

“Just like Papa.”

“Can I call him?”

Dean hoisted the two of them up into a sitting position and fumbled for his phone in his pocket.

“Sure, he might be busy though.”

“That’s okay. I still try.”

He pulled up the face calling app and handed it to his son once it started ringing.

“What a nice surprise!” Dean heard Cas say as the line connected. Only the tip of Jack’s hair could be seen on the camera and Dean helped him lower it.

“Papa I just runned so fast. I winned Daddy!”

Dean always envied Cas’s enthusiasm and genuine encouragement in Jack’s stories, the way the other man lit up with joy hearing their son talk was one of the most beautiful things in the world.

“Did you really?” Cas asked, sounding genuinely delighted by Jack’s words.

“Yeah! He says I gonna be a runner like you!”

“You already are a runner. I love when you go on runs with me.” Dean was thankful that Cas couldn’t see his face because he was certain he had heart eyes just watching the way Cas spoke with Jack so honestly.

“What are you and Daddy doing today, honeybee?”

“We at the park and daddy says we maybe gonna go to the movies or on the jump-jump again.”

“I’m so glad you’re having fun, my love.”

“Love you!”

“I love you too. So much.”

Unceremoniously Jack pawned the phone off to Dean and hurried on his way back over to the slides, clearly no longer stimulated by the conversation. Keeping his eyes as trained to his kid as he could without being rude to Cas, he apologized for the abrupt ending to their conversation.

“Sorry ‘bout that.”

“It’s quite alright.”

Their now infrequent communication was now always ripe with awkward tension, neither one of them knowing what to say. Dean hated being the first one to suggest hanging up yet he hated being the one hung up on more.

“I—I should get back to playing with him. It looks like he wants to go on the swings.”

“Alright. Enjoy your time with him.”

“I will.” He felt himself hesitate for a moment but knew he couldn’t say what he wanted, instead he just mumbled, “Talk to you later, Cas.”

“Right. Bye.”

The call ended there.

He wanted to call back and just say it, just scream ‘I love you,’ just to make sure Cas knew but that wasn’t allowed anymore and he couldn’t bring himself to try to say it after so many times of saying it or accidently saying it and not hearing it back.

It was a waste to sit and stew over that thought, knowing it’d just bring down his spirits and he wanted to have a great day with his son. That’s what mattered most. So, much like he did with Jack’s meltdown, Dean shoved those thoughts down and locked them up tight.

Their day at the park was a success and it was a relief that Jack wanted to just watch movies at the house since Dean was suddenly very wiped out. He had detailed plans to do a whole lot of nothing for the rest of the day and planned to order the meatiest pizza he could for dinner when he got a text from his assistant asking if she could come over.

He groaned a little but agreed as cheerfully as he could, still trying his best to make sure Charlie knew he didn’t actually hate her despite how grumbly he was the majority of the time they spoke.

Apparently, Charlie was already driving over because mere minutes later she let herself in the house and was sitting across from him on the couch.

“Hey, Char.”

“Hi.”

There was something off about her voice and the hunch in her shoulders made him certain she’d messed up on something (again) and he was going to have to figure out how to not be annoyed.

Before they could get into it though, Jack flopped onto the couch beside her, shoving toys into her hands without any preamble.

“Look Chawee, I got more Legos!”

“That’s cool, little dude.”

“Do you wanna play with me?”

“Uh, I don’t know?” She glanced between Dean and Jack, and despite the fact that Dean knew he wasn’t an asshole, he also kind of had fun fucking with her. He merely raised an eyebrow at her, seeing how she’d respond.

She looked back down at Jack nervously but the boy had put on his charm.

“Please?”

“Yeah, okay.”

Her affirmation had Jack dumping one of his buckets onto the coffee table and pushing a mound of pieces around as he looked for the Lego people.

“What kinda guy do you want to be?” Jack questioned, pushing a handful of Legos in front of Charlie. The red-head woman looked overwhelmed by the sheer volume of options but smiled as casually as possible.

“Do you have a wizard?”

“What’s that?”

Dean had to bite back a laugh watching her flail as she talked with the toddler. It was fairly obvious she hadn’t grown up around kids or been around many in her adult life. Her words came out as more of a question when she explained what a wizard was to Jack. 

“It’s someone with magical powers.”

“Like Iron Man?” Jack’s curiosity peaked at the prospect of getting to show off his Iron Man toys but Charlie was oblivious to his excitement, sending a scandalized look to Dean, making him feel like a dad-failure for a second. But his kid was four and thought Dean had magical powers sometimes, it was an honest mistake.

“Hey, you’re the one with the knowledge of wizards, teach him,” Dean joked. He laughed when a serious look crossed Charlie’s face and she turned back to his son to educate him on all things magical.

He let the two play for a while, chiming in only when Charlie’s dramatic retelling of Harry Potter veered a little too scary for his four-year-old. It wasn’t long before Jack was bored with playing wizards and wandered away to pick through some of his other toys. Dean saw that as the opportunity he needed to ask Charlie why she’d come over in the first place.

“Spill,” is all Dean had to say before she was hunching in on herself again. She fiddled with her hands as she confessed.

“I—I kind of messed up.”

“Meaning?” Dean knew he sounded like a dick but he was technically her boss and it was frustrating as hell when his team didn’t do what they needed to do. He hired them to make his life less stressful, not more.

“I—I scheduled you for two meetings at the same time. And I know I’ve done this before but I just… there’s just been a lot going on and it really was an honest mistake.”

His instinct was to curse a little but he took a few deep breaths and counted to ten. “Meetings with who?”

“Uhm—the one with… with Thomas Rhett is at noon next Saturday and… so is the one with that newcomer that you like… Garth Fitzgerald.”

Dean stared for a while not wanting to immediately start shooting off harsh words. He had a temper and he knew it; it was something he was working on remedying but this wasn’t the first time she got distracted and double booked him for a meeting. It wasn’t the worst offence an assistant had committed either, which he had to keep telling himself.

Charlie was damn good at her job when she didn’t get flustered and overwhelmed sometimes and Dean knew he had to give her the benefit of the doubt because she was newer to this job than the past few assistants he’d had, and, to be fair, she was much better than any he’d had before.

It was rare to find someone who he got along with on a deeper level than just knowing he was the one hiring them and they were the one keeping up with his schedule. He and Charlie hadn’t quite crossed over to being friends but the few chats they had about pop-culture, proved that friendship wasn’t a long way away. Still, it was frustrating as hell when these little bumps came up because it wasn’t textbook professional on her part.

He knew he didn’t sound particularly happy, but the mess up had already happened, it needed to get cleaned up. 

“Alright, it’s on you to fix it. Garth would be more flexible with his time but I’d rather work with him now because it’s going to help his career in the long run. Figure out if Rhett can meet another time or just let him know about your mess up and offer your sincerest apologies in the way you see fit. And make sure something like this doesn’t happen _again._”

“I’m sorr—”

Dean cut her off before she could finish. She’d only been on his team since he moved out to Vegas and this was anything but the first time she’d done this. Especially the past few weeks she’d been forgetful, calling him only an hour before a meeting he was expected to go to.

“You should be sorry. It’s your job to keep organized and this isn’t the only time you haven’t been. I’m not going to assume that this job is easy, I know you have a lot on your plate and if it’s too much at times, I need you telling me instead of dropping the ball like this. I rely on you, okay?”

“Yes, sir.” She looked downtrodden and Dean knew he wasn’t being the kindest at the moment, but he just wanted her to learn. Other people might not be as forgiving for a mess-up like this one and it was in her best interest to be at the top of her game if she switched clients eventually. He still didn’t want her calling him sir though.

“Charlie…” he warned lightly, making her huff a small laugh.

“Dean,” she corrected. The two of them peered over at Jack who was still enthralled with his toys, currently making whooshing sounds as his superheroes flew above his head. Dean could feel Charlie’s eyes on him a moment later as she said his name.

“Dean?”

“Hmm?”

“I…” He turned to look at her and noticed how uncomfortable she seemed to be, when he raised an eyebrow her way, she squared her shoulders in order to mumble, “Belastoppedhandingyoursocials.”

“Excuse me?”

“Bela stopped handling your socials. She—she just told me to do it for now.” Her words still came out in a rush of breath but it was much more intelligible than before. 

“What? Why didn’t you tell me?” As the word came out of his mouth, he realized the answer to his question already. Bela was a piece of work and he really only kept her around because he _thought_ she was at least good at her job. He knew from his past assistants that Bela seemed to think she was the most important person on his team and often intimidated other people but to just up and stop doing her job?

“She said she just needed a break for a while,” Charlie said, cutting into his thoughts. “—that she was going to start up again but it’s been… it’s been two months.”

“So, you’ve been handling that too?”

“Yeah,” Charlie admitted. Now that she’d said something, he noticed just how frazzled she really looked. The deep circles under her eyes were more pronounced, her hair looked a little less tame than when she’d first started the job, and she seemed unable to focus as much. It was obvious that running his schedule and his social media accounts was taking way more time than she was being paid for.

What the hell was Bela thinking?

“Damnit. Okay.” Dean mumbled. Bela wasn’t going to be an easy one to work with, he knew that instinctually. “I’ll fix it.”

“Dean, I’m really sorry.”

He let out a sigh.

“I know. It’s not on you,” he reassured. It truly wasn’t Charlie’s fault. Bela had been good at her job when he first hired her, so much so that he and Cas shared the same social media coordinator. She’d been awesome at the time but now it seemed she wasn’t interested in the job any more.

Dean didn’t know if it was her affinity towards Cas over him, or the fact that she hadn’t moved up to his publicist that had her pawning her job off to the easily manipulated new kid. Either way, something had to be done about it.

But he didn’t want to deal with it now.

“Hey, I’m gonna get dinner started with Jack, you staying?”

“Oh—oh no. I’ll let you two get back to your day. I’ll fix this. I promise.”

“And Char?”

“Yeah?”

“I noticed my socials were getting funnier, thanks for that. It did sound more like me.”

Dean did his best to occupy his mind with cooking dinner and reading stories with Jack. Once his kid was in bed he made a quick call to his publicist, Linda Tran, to get some advice on how to deal with Bela. Linda had been with him since his days on Unnatural and there were few people he trusted more with his career. She was a force to be reckoned with in a small woman’s body and she did her job better than anyone Dean knew. She had always the first person he went to for advice when it came to his career, until Cas came along, and now he was back to calling her regularly for help.

“I think you have two options but neither will be ideal. You can fire her for neglecting her duties or you can give her an ultimatum to do her job the correct way or you’ll replace her.”

“Fuck,” Dean groaned, shoving his face in his hands. “What if she turns against me?”

“She probably will. In my opinion she isn’t trustworthy. She’s been attempting to move up the ladder and has hit a standstill with you since she can’t take my job. She wouldn’t be stupid enough to do something to you now since she’s probably hoping for a good recommendation but I wouldn’t be surprised if she had her sights set on other clients already or has a hookup for a more _desired_ one.”

“You sure you don’t want to handle this for me?” Dean half-teased though he’d wholeheartedly let her handle this shitty part of his job. He knew technically he could force Charlie to do this but she was still so new and it was his responsibility, no matter how other celebrities chose to handle their business.

“As much as I’d love to give Bela a piece of my mind, you’re more than capable. Just be prepared to have that stylist of yours walk if you do let Talbot go.” 

“You should see the kind of shit he tries to get me to wear for my shows. I don’t know why I pay him just for me to pick my own damn outfits.”

She tsked over the phone and Dean knew what she was thinking. She’d never been fully sold on him working in Vegas even though she’d been the one to introduce the idea to him and she especially wasn’t fond of all the new people he had to work with since he’d moved from California.

If only he'd listened to everyone he trusted instead of getting caught up in the idea of _this is every singer’s dream,_ he might not be in this mess.

He got off the phone with Linda not long after and forced himself to get ready for bed.

It was there, lying in a cold, empty bed that all the thoughts Dean had been trying to shove to the recesses of his mind came flooding to the forefront. 

He was stressed and overwhelmed and so, so lonely.

It was the nights, by far, that were the hardest on him. More than anything he missed being able to pull Cas against his chest and bury his nose in his hair or to feel those strong arms wrap around him from behind and hold him tight. He missed being able to divulge all of the day’s stresses and get all his thoughts off his chest, listening as Cas said exactly what Dean needed to hear.

Now he only had his mind to mull it all over with.

Here in this empty bed he wondered if Cas missed him too. If his heart ached with the desire to feel their skin on each other’s again in the same way Dean did. Did Cas cry himself to sleep too sometimes? Did he fight every instinct in his body to not pick up the phone just to hear his voice? Did he go through every moment of their lives together and think over and over what he could have done differently, done better, to not lose him?

Did he even care anymore?

He wanted to believe Cas did. He wanted so desperately to believe Cas still loved him he couldn’t breathe sometimes.

He hadn’t heard those words out of his husband’s mouth in months and it tore away at his confidence. Really, each day they didn’t get back together Dean started to doubt even more if would ever hear those three words again.

Maybe he wasn’t meant to be someone’s husband. Some people were just destined to be alone, weren’t they? Of anyone, Dean should be the one to be alone. It was no secret he wasn’t a good husband, hell if his first failed marriage was anything to go by, he didn’t have a good track record.

And despite what Cas had said when their relationship had been brand new, it _did_ bother him that Dean had been divorced before.

Dean’s thoughts took him back to one of their first sessions with Pamela, one filled with hostility as they threw hurtful words at each other for no reason—long before Pamela taught them strategies to communicate more effectively.

He remembers how hurt he’d been when Cas had practically screamed, “It’s not like you care much for the sanctity of marriage.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Cas had sat at the edge of the couch, something he still hadn’t broken away from, but he seethed with anger back then far more than he did now.

As he spoke, Cas looked disgusted to even be around Dean.

“It’s not like you really mean it when you say till death do you part. I’m not even your first marriage.”

“I knew that always bothered you,” Dean had yelled, furious that Cas was only now bringing it up.

“Of course it bothers me!” Cas spit out viciously. “You left your first marriage so easily it made me wonder how easily you’d leave ours.”

Dean’s jaw ached with how hard he’d been clenching it.

“Looks like you took that choice out of my hands.”

“That or you’d do to me what you did to Jo.” The accusation in Cas’s voice had Dean seeing red, he’d known exactly what his husband was implying and it had been bullshit.

“I never... I NEVER cheated on her and you know that,” Dean shouted, not heeding Pamela’s warnings to keep their tones civil. “I didn’t even hold your hand until the divorce was filed and we were separated. You know this!”

“Perhaps it wasn’t physical but you know how we talked to one another. You were _married_ but you didn’t care.”

“I didn’t care? You think I wanted my first marriage to end like that? You think I planned to meet you and fall for you while I was with her?”

“You didn’t try and fight for her.”

“You wanted me to?”

“You should have.”

“And then what? Pretend we weren’t already in love? Never be with you because I had rushed into a marriage with someone I realized too late I’d never be fully happy with? You think I should’ve stayed with her just because I’d made one stupid choice?”

“See, you think marriage is stupid.”

“Stop trying to put words in my mouth! You’re trying to villainize me for no reason!”

“Okay, okay, gentlemen I think we need to reconvene. Dean, please have a seat.”

With Pamela they’d gotten better at not picking senseless fights just to rile each other up. Their conversations weren’t ideal and they still struggled with communicating but it was better than before.

Dean had been working hard, regardless of what Cas still probably thought. He just didn’t know if it was enough anymore. He didn’t know if he was enough anymore. 

As he tried to fall asleep he sent his thoughts out into the universe, asking that he’d be able to hold Cas again--to feel the other man’s love again. Even if he didn’t deserve it.


	5. Chapter 5

He started meeting with Pamela one-on-one about three months after he and Cas had started their sessions together.

He hadn’t known what to expect from meeting with her by himself but was pleasantly surprised to see how much more laid back it was compared to him and Cas being in the same room. He felt immediately more at ease with her and found himself wanting to open up and provide as much detail as he could when it was just her who was listening.

She’d started off easily, asking him general questions about himself before she moved onto asking questions about him and Cas.

“How did you two meet?”

“We already talked about that before, didn’t we? It was on that movie set.”

“I know, but I want to hear your version of the story,” Pamela had said kindly.

He didn’t quite see the point of rehashing the information she already knew but the version of them meeting had been redacted, cutting out a lot of what had really gone on to make it short and sweet. Dean found himself _wanting_ to relive those first few months of knowing Cas. So he told her.

“I did that western movie, Lost Hope’s Landing, and Cas was the writer on it but he was so much more hands on with it than any writer I’d ever worked with before.”

Dean thought back to that first meeting with Cas, this dorky man with his disheveled hair, wire rimmed glasses, and large baggy sweaters who looked like he watched conspiracy documentaries in his free time. Immediately Dean hadn’t thought much of him except that he looked like a nerd and was probably going to be the type of writer who cut in on the director’s notes to fix errors but… Cas had surprised him.

A few weeks on set, Cas had proved to the cast that he was dedicated to getting the movie just right without stepping on anyone’s toes. He took pride in his script and it showed in the way he communicated with the people on staff.

It was a story of a traveler who’d just lost his family to an illness and had stumbled upon a failing town where he met a miner desperately trying to keep a roof over his son’s head. Eventually the two men found that their friendship wasn’t enough and had to learn how to live in a world where their love wasn’t accepted.

Dean had connected to the script the first time he read it and his love for it only grew deeper from his talks with Cas on set. They’d stay up late some nights to figure out how they wanted Dean’s character of the traveler to be portrayed and the past experiences he’d lived through.

The movie took ten months to film but after five, Dean had already known Cas was more than just a friend to him. The hours they’d spent together getting to know the characters had morphed into them getting to know one another just as easily. Cas was funny, in a dry humor kind of way, and he was passionate about his work and portraying LGBTQ characters to the best of his ability. He loved talking about gardening and bees and his smile made Dean’s heart race a million miles a second.

And that’s when Dean had to face the truth. He was falling for someone else while he was still married to Jo… a marriage he’d been realizing more rapidly was a mistake and he didn’t know what to do.

Each month they got closer to wrapping, Dean’s heart ached more. He was scared of what it would mean if the show ended. Would he ever see Cas again? Would Cas want to see him again? What excuse would they have to spend the same amount of time together as they had on set?

The fear of never seeing Cas again is what had Dean confessing to the other man that he thought there was something between them, that he couldn’t get Cas out of his head and didn’t know if he ever wanted to.

The beautiful devastation in Cas’s eyes nearly broke Dean’s heart but Cas hadn’t shut him down. He said that they needed to take time apart and see if it faded, that perhaps what they felt for each other was just because they spent too much time together working on a movie about love.

Only Dean’s feelings didn’t go away. Even after filming was over and he stopped seeing Cas almost daily, even after Dean was living at home with his wife and trying to remember why he’d married her, even after it’d been months without hearing Cas’s voice… Dean knew he was already in love and there was nothing he could do to sway his heart from its choice.

Cas was it for him.

It wasn’t moral how they’d meet up at hotels to see each other. At first they’d used the flimsy excuses of needing to travel around for the press that went into promoting the movie but eventually it was completely contrived excuses. They’d stay in separate rooms and they’d never touch aside from a hug before they’d part, but those few months of getting to know Cas had been enough to make Dean certain he couldn’t stay married to Jo.

It took everything in him to stay faithful to her, as shameful as it is to admit, and it killed him to be that type of man, that type of husband—so he told her everything. He knew he broke her heart and he’d expected the screaming, the crying, and the demands to take all his stuff and leave… but it was the right thing to do. They had essentially just been friends with matching wedding bands. The fallout with the media had sucked but Dean took the hit without complaint.

The minute the paperwork had been submitted to file for divorce, Dean had called Cas and that was that. They’d been together since.

Everything they’d been through, everything they’d overcome, and everything they’d built, Dean wasn’t ready to lose. He could still, so vividly, recall why’d he’d fallen in love in the first place. He’d already loved Cas’s patience, his intelligence, and his passion but the moment he knew he’d fallen in love had been such a small moment in their timeline. Just a random day on set where Cas had been working with Dean’s costar, pouring over a few lines of the script Adam Milligan didn’t believe his character would say, and Cas… he’d stood there with his glasses falling down his nose and a pen behind his ear and his tongue had peaked out between his teeth, and Dean was a goner.

That feeling never faded either.

He remembers that first tentative kiss after Dean told Cas they could finally be together, how everything in that moment sang to his soul that this was it, this was where his heart belonged. And even now, that rang true to his core.

He had to fight for Cas, and since he was the one who ruined everything, it had to be on him to try and undo it all.

It’s why he still meets with Pamela, despite not needing to.

The last fifteen minutes he’d been ranting to her about how it felt when Jack didn’t want to come with him, how it felt like a low part of his parenting and he was still truly hurt about it.

“I’m just—I’m not feeling as confident as I was last month. I thought we were making progress and now I just… I can’t even get my kid to want to be with me either.”

“You said Jack hadn’t been feeling well though.”

“Yeah but, he still didn’t want me to be the one to comfort him or anything. He just wanted Cas.”

“Has it ever been the opposite? Where Jack doesn’t want to leave you and stay with Cas?”

“Well, yeah. He cries every so often when I have to drop him off and doesn’t want me to go.”

“If you were in Cas’s shoes, how would that make you feel? Seeing Jack crying over his other father leaving to go home?”

“I don’t know—he… he probably feels pretty shitty too. Like Jack isn’t excited to see him.”

Pamela chose not to say anything in response, instead she looked at Dean with a look of open communication, willing Dean to come to his own understanding.

“So… Cas probably feels the same way I do sometimes, like he sucks at this dad thing.”

“It’s possible.”

“But it would just be fixed if he’d take me back, wouldn’t it? We wouldn’t have to keep this shuffle back and forth between us anymore.”

“It might solve the problem of the back and forth but I don’t believe it would solve much else at this point in our work together.”

“How? Why not?”

“We all still have quite a bit to work through to open communication and understand one another’s points of views, and Dean, that takes time and a lot of work.”

“I have been working on it though. I do your breathing exercises and I’ve been listening to the meditation app you told me about, and I’m not drinking as much either. I swear I’m trying to get better.”

“And I’m proud of you for the effort you’re putting forth, and I encourage you to continue making choices that you’re proud of as well, I still feel, however, that we have some more work to do together.”

“Like what?”

“Why are you here?”

“This again?”

“I’ll keep asking until you know.”

“Why don’t you tell me and save us the trouble?”

“That’s not how this works.”

He groaned loudly, “I’m here because I don’t want to be divorced. I don’t want to lose him and I think I’m really going to and—I just need to be better. I want him to change his mind and stay with me and... I thought I could get more help.”

“Dean, we’ve talked about this. The goal here isn’t for Castiel to ‘change his mind.’ That’s not what we’re trying to accomplish.”

“Then what’s the point?” Dean whined, frustration evident in his tone. “If my goal isn’t trying to keep my husband from leaving me then why are we even going through marriage counseling? Why bother if he’s just going to leave me in the end?”

“Why do you believe he’ll leave you?”

“It’s what he wants isn’t it?”

“You tell me.”

“Damnit, Pam.”

“I’m just asking. Do you want to practice a breathing technique?”

“No! I just want to be done with all of this. I just want my husband back but he doesn’t want to be with me just because I wanted to take one stupid job!”

“So this divorce is on him?”

“Of course it is! He asked for it.”

“I see.”

“What?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Yeah, but you’re judging me.”

“This is a judgment free zone, Dean, you know this.”

“You don’t agree with me though.”

“I feel that you and I need to work on being honest with ourselves, and accepting responsibility for things that we may not feel we contributed to knowingly.”

“So you think it’s my fault too?”

“I don’t place fault with anyone. Only miscommunication.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re Switzerland.” 

“Next time we are going to work on honesty and ways we can strive to be more honest with not just others but ourselves. I want you to think of at least five different times where you’ve been honest, even though it was difficult, and write them in your journal. You can share them with me if you choose to at our next chat.”

“Yeah, yeah. Homework. I got it.”

“I’ll see you in two weeks then.” 

He saluted her as he walked out but didn’t feel as cheerful or light as he often did after talking with her. Instead he felt anxious about what was to come. Pamela had seemed eager to get this honestly thing up and going but Dean felt in his gut it was going to be the biggest hurdle for himself yet.

Shocker.

* * *

It wasn’t that he couldn’t be honest, he thought he was an honest man. Most of the time. It was just that the shit Pamela wanted him to be honest about was the stuff he didn’t want to deal with yet. 

With an awful lot of mental grumbling, Dean followed Pamela’s instructions and jotted down some of his most notable honest moments in his journal.

His scrawl was tight and neat but much firmer on the paper than usual as he wrote: 

** TIMES I WAS HONEST **

He may have stared at the journal for longer than he wanted to admit thinking about a time he was honest. He started to doubt his previous statement of being an honest man when a thought popped into his head. 

1\. I told Sam his hair looked stupid all the way to his shoulders

He laughed to himself as he thought back to the time Sam was finishing up his law degree and couldn’t bother crawling out of the library long enough to even look in a mirror. All Dean had to do was compare him to Jesus and Sam finally realized how crazy he’d let his mane go. 

See, he could be honest. 

All it took was that first start and he felt more memories pop up. 

2\. I told my mom I broke her vase playing football in the house  
3\. I told Mr. Roman he was a dick and the worst economics teacher I’d ever had  
4\. I told dad I didn’t want to go to college and wanted to be an actor

His stomach still gave an unpleasant lurch thinking about that conversation. Dean always knew his parents had thought they were going to have an All-American life with an All-American son. When Dean didn’t end up being captain of a football team or sport a letterman jacket around high school, his parents might have been disappointed but they’d accepted it. He’d been making decent money with his modeling and they’d been religiously stuffing it in his college savings. 

When the acting gigs popped up, and a little voice in Dean’s head told him he could make that his life… it’d taken him months to get up the courage to sit his parents down and tell them his plans. 

To say John Winchester hadn’t been amused would be an understatement. He’d flat out told Dean that he thought it was the stupidest idea he’d ever heard of. He’d said that it would be a miracle if Dean actually made it in the industry and that Dean should take the smart path and get a real career. 

Dean took the gamble anyway, much to his father’s disapproval but he had made it, which made his decision seem worth it at the time. 

The next thing he wrote down was much similar. 

5\. I told my fans I wanted to give singing my all

He hadn’t known if it would be a good decision in the long run, and to be honest he wasn’t sure if it had been a good decision in general, but he had found success in it. 

He can still remember the mixed responses he’d gotten after he’d made that announcement. Many people supported him while others told him he wouldn’t go very far with singing. 

It was always hot and cold with some of his fans. He was never really sure how some of them would respond to some of the choices he made. 

He wrote down his next thought. 

6\. I told Jo about Cas

That stint of honesty had upheaved quite a bit of his life but it had got him Cas and he wouldn’t change any of the fallout he’d gotten during that time for anything. 

7\. I told Cas I loved him  
8\. I promised I’ll love Cas for as long as I live

Writing it down he knew that had been the most raw and honest he’d ever been with anyone in his life. His heart had been lain at Cas’s feet at he said those vows, meaning them with every fibre of his being. 

9\. I promised myself I’d be the best dad I could be to Jack  
10\. I swore to myself I’d fight for my family

He was fighting for them right? Doing the best he could? 

He wondered if he could do more. If this is what Pamela was always hinting at. That he wasn’t fighting for them hard enough. He wanted to though, he wanted to try. If he lost them because he didn’t fight hard enough he wouldn’t know what to do with himself. He’d never forgive himself, he knew that for sure. 

Dean just wanted them back. He wanted lazy mornings in bed, pancake Sundays, pajama parties on the couch, birthday kisses--all of it. He would do anything for it. 

He underlined number ten a few times, nearly cutting into the paper, reminding himself that he couldn’t give up. Even when the shit Pamela made him do or talk about sucked and hurt like hell. He was doing all for his family. 

Because hearing that Cas wanted to give up on them, that just couldn’t happen. They were Cas and Dean. They were supposed to have forever. 

He wrote one more thing: 

11\. I still love Cas

Throwing down the pen, he folded into himself, too frustrated with emotion to want to continue. He wanted to throw the journal across the room but wasn’t about to disrespect all the work he’d put into it. It was almost halfway full of lists and thoughts Pamela had suggested he kept. He had song ideas he’d want to sing if he could ever sing them for Cas. He had promises he’d share with Cas if he ever got the chance. The journal was slowly becoming a reflection of him barring his soul and he wasn’t about to ruin it because he was feeling overwhelmed.

He put it away gently before clearing up his coffee mug and softly tiptoeing up the stairs to take a shower before Jack woke up. In a few hours his mom and Sam were finally going to be here and Dean wanted his son to not wake up on the wrong side of the bed.

Luckily by the time he was out of the shower and dressed, his little man was starting to stir, stretching out his limbs with the cutest sleepy sounds.

“Well good morning, sunshine.”

Jack’s beaming smile locked on Dean as he outstretched his arms, reaching for his dad. Indulgently, Dean swooped down to pick him up and cradle him over his hip, not quite ready to give up holding his not-so-baby-anymore. The scent of bubblegum soap from the night prior filled Dean’s senses and he hugged his kid just a little tighter.

Without any talking, Dean carried Jack downstairs and towards the living room where he set him down on the couch with his stuffed Toy Story Woody toy.

“Do you want juice or milk?”

“Milk.”

“Eggs or Cheerios?”

“Eggs.”

“Comin’ right up.” 

Despite Jack being enthralled by the TV playing his Disney cartoons, Dean did put his foot down about eating on the couch and made his four-year-old join him at the kitchen table. It wasn’t long until their eggs and gluten free cardboard—toast, he means toast—was finished and Dean and Jack could snuggle on the couch for a little before getting started with their weekend chores.

That was something he and Cas agreed on a while ago. Despite having the means to hire people to clean up after them (and don’t get them wrong they did every few months because dusting and vacuuming were the worst) they still wanted to instill responsibility into child as well as respect for his space. They did the dishes together, folded clothes together, and even helped make the beds. It was a good way to spend family time and get things accomplished that felt normal in their crazy world.

They’d just finished cleaning up their lunch of turkey and cheese sandwiches and were on the couch watching a movie when Jack started asking questions.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah buddy?”

“Why do you no hug Papa no more?”

The two parents on the screen had just hugged each other to say hello and Dean didn’t have to question why Jack was wondering about this. He didn’t quite know how to answer it though. He and Cas weren’t ready to mutter the words ‘divorce’ and ‘separation’ until they knew it was official, so as far as Jack knew his Daddy and Papa were still like everyone else’s happily married parents—except Jack’s daddy had a cool singing job that he had to travel for.

It felt dishonest but they hadn’t come up with many better ideas. Jack finally started to pick up on the differences now though, which meant he needed answers that didn’t cause more harm than good.

“It’s just not what me and Papa do anymore, buddy,” Dean offered, hoping that it would be okay. 

“But why?” Jack wasn’t one to let his curiosity slide, unless he was thoroughly distracted, so Dean tried to be quick with his thinking. 

“He’s a little sad with me right now. And since Daddy lives far away, we sometimes forget to give hugs because I’m super busy, you know?”

“Why is he sad with you?”

“You know when you don’t put your toys away and Papa gets sad with you?”

“Yeah. I no like when he’s sad with me.”

“It’s kind of like that, but Daddy did a silly grownup thing.”

“You forgot to put your toys away?”

“Kind of. I just made Papa real sad with me, but that’s okay. Me and Papa still love you so, so much. That won’t change, okay?”

“I know but you can just say sorry. He always like sorry. He give you big hugs again.”

“Maybe he would buddy, maybe later.”

“When is Grammy getting here?”

“She should be here soon. And I bet she has a surprise for you.”

“Yeah!”

They only had to wait a little more than an hour for the front door to ring and Jack to start sprinting towards it in excitement.

The minute the door was opened and Mary Winchester was in sight, Dean’s kid was flying through the air towards his grandmother. 

“Grammy!”

“Oof, I’ve missed you so much,” she cooed into his hair, squeezing the lungs out of his little body. The kid was so single-minded that he hadn’t noticed the scruffy giant behind them.

“Where’s my hug?” Sam complained jokingly, causing Jack to look up with bug eyes at his uncle. The four-year-old giggled as he fell into Sam’s leg in an awkward hug, almost knocking Sam’s gangly limbs off balance.

Dean stood there with a smile on his face watching their reunion but itching to give his mom and brother a hug too. 

He cut in to their moment with obnoxious petulance, “Hey now, what am I? Chopped liver?”

Mary’s eyes lit up when she finally turned to him. 

“I’m so sorry, honey, but you know grandbabies come first,” she teased. Dean glared at her playfully until she reached her arms out towards him. 

“Come here,” she commanded and Dean folded right into her arms like a little kid again. 

“Hi, Mama.”

He breathed deeply as he hugged just a little bit too tightly. She smelled the same as she always had, a deeply comforting scent of the Daisy perfume she’d worn since Dean could remember flooding his senses with the feeling of childhood. God, he’d missed her and maybe she could sense that because she held on to him until he finally felt ready to pull away. 

He didn’t get very far before her cold hands cradled his cheeks and examined him in that annoyingly enduring mother-henning way. 

“Oh look at you. Have you been eating?” She asked, disapproval clear in her tone towards what she was seeing as she looked at him.

It felt good to have someone care about him again. For the past few months he was the only one who he had to look out for himself and for the whole weekend he was going to soak this attention up, he knew it. 

“Yes,” he promised, because sad and lonely or not, Dean Winchester loved food. Apparently though his mother didn’t think his appetite was as big as it once was. 

She frowned as she said, “It’s not enough. We’ll fix that.”

“Mom, I’m fine. I’m good.”

“Are you sure? Let me look at you.”

He rolled his eyes but accepted as she looked him over. He wondered what she saw when she looked at him. Did she see her successful son or her naïve teenager? Did she see how broken he was even though he tried to hide it?

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m good.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m as okay as I can be,” he corrected, not exactly wanting to get into it on his front porch. 

“C. A. S.?”

He shrugged. It wasn’t _not_ Cas but it also wasn’t him too. There’d been a lot going on for him and he was just… tired.

“How about I make us all some Winchester surprise and we have a nice meal together?”

“That sounds good, mom.”

His relationship with his parents had been rocky for a while, a couple of years back.

Growing up he thought he’d had the picture-perfect life: a loving mom and dad, a rowdy little brother, and a house in the suburbs with a white picket fence and everything. For a while it had been perfect. Even with his modeling and acting jobs Mary, John, Sam, and Dean all had dinner together every night, had family barbeques in their backyard, still took annual family photos too.

It was later in life that things started to get a bit rocky for the Winchesters.

When Dean got casted on Unnatural and finally had that talk with his parents, letting them know about his move from Kansas to Vancouver, his mother finally snapped out of her denial that he’d someday go to college or trade school. She wasn’t entirely pleased but his mom did offer him her support in a way his dad didn’t. 

Their family dynamic shifted. No longer could Dean join his parents and brother at the dinner table except from holidays or hiatuses from the show. No longer did his parents know every detail of his personal life like who he was friends with or who he was seeing.

Suddenly, most of what they heard about their son came from tabloids. His mom was the worst with calling him constantly to hear Dean’s side of the story, to write off the latest headline as just gossip but still, John didn’t seem to care much for any of it.

He didn’t care until Dean divorced Jo, that is.

It was no secret that John Winchester believed himself to be a man’s man. He grew up in a conservative town with strong beliefs what a true family unit should look like and he allowed himself to buy into those ideals. When Dean came home with a sweet Southern Bell of a girlfriend John had been proud; he’d been elated when they’d tied the knot.

The divorce announcement, the speculating headlines following the split, the rumors of John Winchester’s first-born son being seen with a _man…_ it didn’t lead to pleasant family dinners to say the least.

In his father’s words he didn’t care if his son liked “messing around with guys or playing one of ‘them’ on TV but being caught with him in public is a whole other problem!”

It hurt to not have all of his family’s support but Dean wasn’t about to give up on his first real experience at happiness.

John shut Dean out for a while which caused a rift between his mom and dad. Eventually the two couldn’t see eye to eye anymore and split. Mary moved out to California where Dean had set up home and John stayed in Kansas.

It took until a month before Dean and Cas’s wedding for his dad to come to the realization that he was an asshole and had to change his ways.

He came around to Dean’s relationship the best way he could but when Jack came into their lives, John Winchester became a whole new man. He still didn’t come around nearly as often as Mary, who lived a few hours away, but he did better than he had before.

It still didn’t top the relationship Dean now had with his mom though. Where he’d thought they’d been close when he was growing up, he now relied on her more than anything, especially helping him become the parent he wanted to be. He couldn’t express how happy he was to have her with him again, even if just for a few days.

It felt right having his family in his house, his mom cooking in his kitchen, and his son and brother coloring at the kitchen table but… something was missing. He liked this house but it wasn’t his home. No, his home was the three-story one with the large chef’s kitchen and the shaded patio that overlooked a pool. His home had a basement with a theatre room where he’d have friends over to watch the Superbowl, or just make out with his husband on any Thursday night. The place his heart longed to be had rich wooden floors and large cozy couches that swallowed you whole but made a great place for lounging all day.

This house was good, but it wasn’t his home. Without Cas, nowhere felt like home but he had to deal with it, hopefully only temporarily. 

He put on a brave smile as he slumped to the table next to his brother.

“So, Sammy, how’s the new job?”

“So much better. I feel like I’m making much more of a difference than I had been.” Sam light up with his words, making Dean beam with pride.

“That’s good to hear.”

“What’s new with you?”

“Not much,” Dean shrugged, before saying, “I think I have to fire Bela.”

“Why? What happened?”

“Jack, buddy? How about you go pick a game for us to play after dinner? Any game you want.”

“Okay!” he shouted. With a smile, Jack dropped his crayons on the table and scrambled out of his seat allowing Dean to explain everything to his Sam and his mom, who was listening by the counter.

“Charlie told me that Bela’s been pawning her job off to her and even after I talked to Bela about it, she still hasn’t been doing what she’s contracted to do. She either isn’t posting at all or just posting things that seem awkward and careless. She spelled a few words wrong in a promotion for the show and didn’t try to correct it.”

“Do you even need a social media person?” Sam asked genuinely. He’d always been a little confused about a few oddities of Dean’s job.

“Not really, but I don’t want to spend more time than I need posting promotional stuff or and I don’t remember to even do it most of the time, so it helps having someone else handle it.”

“So you don’t do any of your own posting?”

“I do, when it’s personal pictures and posts, yeah, sometimes, but not for shows or movie promos. But Bela mostly handles screening the really bad shit, especially anything about Cas and Jack that I’d just put my foot in my mouth getting pissed over.”

Understanding seemed to wash over Sam. “What do you think will happen if you let her go?”

“Not sure, maybe nothing, maybe a whole bunch of shit.” 

“Honey, if she’s not doing her job even after you talked to her, it’s probably best to find someone else.” Mary supplied. Dean had to agree it sounded reasonable but he had a bad gut feeling about it.

Regardless, he didn’t have much time to dwell since dinner was finished and Jack had entered the kitchen with what looked like Sorry, Chutes and Ladders, _and_ CandyLand.

The weekend ended up flying by much quicker than Dean was prepared for. They tried to cram as much as they could into their time together, hitting a few nicer restaurants his mom had seen featured on the Food Network, going to the Shark Reef to see all the ocean life, and of course gambling a little bit while Jack was with his babysitter. He’d even got to finally see his family sitting front row at his show, smiling up at him as he performed his heart out that night. But before long he was saying goodbye to them, including his son who was flying back with Mary and Sam to save Dean an eight-hour total drive.

They’d shifted off to a quieter corner of the airport near the security line, and though there were a few cameras flashing from some eagle-eyed fans, Benny was holding them off so Dean could as privately as possible say goodbye to his family. 

“Be good for Grammy and Uncle Sam, okay?” Dean put on his brave face as he always did when he was saying goodbye to his son. No matter how often he did it, it was the worst parts of each month. 

Jack, too, seemed unwilling to go.

“I wanna stay,” he whined, looking at Dean with the most pitiful puppy dog eyes. 

“I know,” Dean comforted, brushing the hair out of Jack’s eyes as he knelt on the airport floor, “but you get to go on an airplane and I know how much you love airplanes.”

Jack shook his head, “No.”

Before any waterworks could make their appearance, Dean leaned in to whisper, “Can I tell you a secret?”

Jack’s nod had Dean stage whispering (loud enough for his mom to hear), “I hid a special treat in Grammy’s backpack for you, but you can’t look at it until you get on the airplane.”

“What is it?” Jack questioned, eyes lighting up wide. Dean smiled despite himself, hoping the chocolate bar and little note would brighten his son’s day later. 

“If I told you it wouldn’t be a secret.” He said with a wink. “Can I have a big hug?”

Jack’s arms moved to wrap around Dean’s neck, nearly choking him from the force. Before he was knocked over, Dean swooped the little boy up and whispered, “I love you, forever and ever.”

“I love you.”

“Promise you’ll be good?”

“Yeah.”

Setting Jack down, Dean handed over the boy’s backpack that held his iPad and some books to his brother. Sammy must’ve been able to see the tension in Dean’s shoulders despite his smile. A warm hand settled over his shoulder as Sam spoke.

“Dean, we’ll take care of him. I’ll text you when we’re boarding the plane, about to take off, and the second we’ve landed, okay?”

“Yup.” Dean said tightly, still not loving the fact that he was putting his son on a plane without him. Everything was going to be fine but parents didn’t have the luxury of not worrying about the child every moment of every day.

“I’ll see you in a few weeks. Now that I’m closer to Cas we can grab lunch every weekend you have Jack, before you get back on the road.”

“I’d like that.”

He hugged his brother firmly before turning towards his mom.

“You’re going to be okay,” she promised, holding his face between her palms.

“I know.” He replied, despite the emotions that hit him like a wave.

“I promise. It’ll all work out and one day this will all be a distant memory. It’s just a speed bump.”

“I hope so.”

“And no matter what you think, you are raising that boy right. Both of you are. I’m so proud of you both for that. For putting him first.”

“Of course.”

“Some parents aren’t quite that smart,” she said with a tight smile. Maybe she meant herself or maybe she was referring to his dad, either way he understood.

“Love you, Mama.”

“Love you more.”


	6. Chapter 6

Another week of shows, another week alone in his house, another week counting down the days until Friday.

It was only Tuesday.

It’s why he wasn’t sure why his feet had led him into this particular bar and made him sit on this particular barstool, but when the sharp tone of the bartender pierced his ears, he knew why he was there.

“Look what the cat dragged in. It’s been what, a few years? Couldn’t be bothered to show your face before?” The smirk on Ellen Harvelle’s face was enough to make Dean crack a smile.

“What can I say? Just needed a friendly face,” Dean shot back. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Ellen more than just in passing, maybe a year or so after his divorce from Jo, to finally apologize for breaking her daughter’s heart. The shotgun to his chest had been a bit overkill, but she was a good woman, deep down.

“So you came here?”

“You know your grimace always makes me feel warm and cozy.” He fixed her with one of his most charming smiles only to have her eyes nearly roll in the back of her head, but her tone was still friendly. 

“What can I get you, kid?”

“Surprise me.”

She set down a bottle in front of him and tended to a few of the other patrons at the bar before settling down next to him.

“How’ve you been, Ellen?” Her eyebrow raised but her face remained passive. 

“That’s not why you’re here.”

He wanted to crack a joke about the Harvelle women thinking they can read minds but decided he’d rather not get smacked upside the head. He couldn’t completely take all the cheek out of his response though.

“I can’t ask how you’ve been doing?” He feigned insulted, willing her to roll her eyes at him in the way he knew meant she cared.

“You can. I’m good. But you’re not.”

There was no point denying it, or else his two feet wouldn’t have dragged him in there in the first place.

“Not really,” he confessed. Ellen moved away to tend to the other customer across the bar, only coming back to Dean once the man was entranced by his drink. She whipped the towel she’d been using over her shoulder and leaned across the bar, keeping her voice low.

“Is what they’re saying true? You and Cas split?” Despite her rough exterior, he wasn’t surprised she kept tabs on him, even if only through the tabloids—she still cared. He nodded in response, his tongue too heavy in his mouth.

Her warm eyes softened fractionally. “You’ve still got the ring on,” she noted, gesturing towards his hand with a nod. Without thought, Dean drew his hand to his lap, rolling the silver band between his fingers. 

“I’m still hoping he’ll change his mind,” he admitted. “We’re uh—we’re going through therapy before we make a decision.”

“You think it’s helping?”

Suddenly he didn’t know why he’d bothered coming around. He _loathed_ talking about anything personal, and this was more personal than he’d thought he could manage but at the same time, it was all lodged in his chest, making it hard to breath. He just needed to tell people, needed them to understand what he was dealing with. He just wanted to take the burden off his shoulders a little.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly, thinking back to how all the sessions in general had been going between him and Cas. “It’s like I don’t know him anymore.”

Ellen nodded, “He’s probably feeling the same way.”

“It sucks. I feel like I can never do or say the right thing. I’m trying really hard but he still doesn’t seem interested in taking me back.”

“What do you mean by you’re trying hard?”

He gulped down half of his beer before sighing heavily, “I’m getting extra sessions with the shrink and I’m writing things in this journal she suggested, and I’m working on not getting so pissed off so quickly.”

It was true. He was doing everything Pamela had asked him to do and working on all those things because he knew they were a problem and he needed to get better to change Cas’s mind. He was trying but Cas still hadn’t had a real conversation with him outside of the damn office. He’d take _anything_ at this point. Even a measly conversation about the weather because he just wanted _something_ to make him feel like they were making progress.

“Hmm.”

Ellen’s sound drew Dean’s attention back to her. There was smugness hidden behind her forced neutrality and Dean knew what that meant, he’d had that look used against him before. 

“What? I know you got an opinion.”

She pushed herself up off the bar where she’d been leaning and grabbed a few glasses to begin drying again. Her tone was casual as she worked.

“It just doesn’t seem like you’re doing much to fix your wrongs.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” Dean retorted defensively. “He’s the one that filed for divorce after I took a job offer.”

“And did he approve of said job offer?”

“Well, no, but—”

“And did he ask you not to take it?”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“And did you ignore what he asked of you and did it anyway?”

“That’s not fair—”

She dropped the towel and her smirk at the same time.

“Dean, I love you boy, but you have a bad habit of thinking you know what’s best. Most of the time you’re doing it out of the goodness of your heart but sometimes you’re doing it because you don’t want to be wrong. You overrule someone too many times, despite it being in their best interest, and fail to have conversations with them to hash out the nitty gritty—they’re going to get resentful of it.”

Tension pulled at his brows as he took in her words. Deep down he knew she wasn’t wrong but he wasn’t ready to delve into those thoughts yet. Maybe he’d bring it up with Pamela later.

Then Ellen asked, “Have you even said sorry?”

He didn’t know what to say. Had he said sorry? Surely he’d had to. Right?

“Yeah?” His words weren’t even convincing to his own ears, let alone to Ellen’s.

“I’m taking that question in your voice as a no.”

He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t have anything to say. He was stuck between wanting to dismiss her words and fearing that she was right.

It’s just that… he didn’t _want_ to say he was sorry because some part of him was still so mad at Cas for breaking his heart. He wanted to hear Cas admit that it’d been a mistake to ask for the divorce, he wanted Cas to confess that he’d messed up in not asking Dean to work it out, he wanted Cas to just say that he was in the wrong. Not Dean. Because with a broken heart like Dean’s why should Dean apologize?

Ellen must have taken his silence as the perfect moment to draw up a speech. She settled back across the counter from him but grabbed his forearm to ensure he was listening.

“I know you think I just think of you as the boy who broke my daughter’s heart, but those are old wounds. I moved past that long ago and now I see a man who chose love over what he thought was expected of him, I see a man who chose to do the right thing even when it was hard. What I don’t want to see is you getting so caught up in your broken heart that you don’t realize that you have to put _everything_ into this to this to fix it. Love isn’t easy, kid, it’s gut-wrenching and dirty and makes you feel like shit sometimes, but you gotta put in the work to get the rewards.”

At first he felt himself get defensive because wasn’t that what he was doing? Putting in the work? But then he let her words wash over him and realized she didn’t mean now. She meant he should have tried harder before Cas had walked away from them and now he would have to work the hardest he ever had to keep his husband for good. 

It’s what they’d vowed isn’t it? The good days and the bad, the ups and the downs? It wasn’t as simple as it seemed when they were so high on falling in love, giddy with excitement to be repeating those words in front of the Chapel’s officiant.

He was learning, above all else, that fighting for love was terrifying.

His voice shook. “What if I do and he doesn’t want me back?”

She squeezed his arm just a little bit tighter. “You’ll live. It’ll hurt like a bitch, but you’ll live.” He looked up curiously when she laughed a little after saying those words, but she answered his question before he could ask it. “I might’ve said those exact words before, to someone else, but they’re still true now.”

Guilt tore at his heart, thinking back to what Jo must’ve gone through all those years ago, if it felt anything like he did now… he couldn’t imagine.

“Can I have another?” He asked, avoiding thinking any harder about such emotional times.

“Sure.” Ellen responded gently, pulling away to fetch him another bottle. By the time she came back she’d changed tone, pulling them both out of such a slippery slope of emotions. “You got a show tomorrow?”

“Yeah, and Saturday,” he relayed. 

“Doing anything special?”

He shrugged, “Maybe if you finally come to see me.” 

He’d offered Jo, and by extension Ellen, free tickets to see the show, but life was busy and they’d yet to make it out. He couldn’t blame them though, none of his family or friends aside from his mom and Sam had actually seen it until just a few weeks ago, for reasons he couldn’t keep straight anymore. Travel costs, no time off, kids being in school--he’d heard it all, but he knew it mostly boiled down to no one thinking he should’ve done the show in the first place. It was their passive aggressive way of not supporting him. He’d gotten used to it. 

“I might try and see if I can get Jo in on a show sometime,” he added noncommittally. It was possible he could swing that for a special event but didn’t think it’d be something Jo would be interested in. Ellen seemed to know this too. 

“Gotta catch her before her tour takes her too far,” she said with a tight smile. 

“I’ll call her.”

“Good.” He felt the air shift between them a little and knew he might be overstaying his welcome though she’d never admit it. He pushed off the barstool, taking the last swig of his beer. Ellen didn’t come around to hug him but he didn’t expect her to. Instead he still felt warmed when she glared at him and said, “Don’t be a stranger, Dean.”

“I won’t, promise.” He meant it when he said it too. He needed more people in his corner.

* * *

* * *

Remembering the beginning stages of creating his show has faded into Dean’s mind and became distant blur. Some part of him vaguely remembers late nights rehearsing, staring at countless set pieces and lights and weighing in on them, and the stress of not knowing how his shown would be received. He wishes he could have been right minded enough to have given more valuable input into everything but fresh from his separation with Cas and moving away from his kid, Dean didn’t really give too many shits beside what his team said would be ‘awesome.’ 

The thing is, he looks at his show now and wishes it could be more than what it is. It’s not bad, the reviews seem mostly good, and it’s not that he doesn’t think it’s a good setup, it just doesn’t make him feel at home when he walks up on there to sing for the night. 

He’s never been one for pomp and circumstance so every now and then the lights that flash and gleam across the stage or the jumbo screen behind him displaying some cutesy animation to go along with his songs just seems too much. But the people who show up seem to like it. They clap at the scripted jokes, they laugh at the animated version of Dean driving his Impala--and it’s fine. It’s his job and he’s good at it and it pays him well. 

It’s monotonous but predictable which is a blessing and a curse. He has his setlist so deeply engraved in his mind that he could easily run through the show in his sleep. The predictability of it all means he doesn’t have to put in as much effort as he does for other performances, now that everything has become muscle movement, but it also means he generally can’t throw in too many surprises unless he gets it approved with all the stakeholders of the show. 

Really, he just--he tries to get excited about going but to him it’s just a part of his routine now. Everything is so mechanical it’s hard to feel excited about it very often. Except for the one piece of his set that’s his, that’s something he looks forward to nightly. It took him a while to wear them down, begging for just one piece of his show to not have flashy lights and background dancers--it was a blessing when they’d finally agreed. 

One song--one acoustic song not on his setlist (as long as it was approved) and he took that moment with pride in his chest. 

It was the one part of his show he truly got to connect with his audience. After months of working on the same show, in the same place, he’d started to dread the way he interacted with them, saying the same phrases, sharing the same stories, over and over and over again.

He craved his little break and needed it to get his energy back, to feel like he was playing music again and not just turning into a machine.

He’d made it there that night, after dancing around the stage and doing the awkward (but limited) choreography he was required to, he was able to settle down and just be himself. 

As usual, his mind drifted to his son who was back with Dean for the week. As the set design was being changed behind him Dean thought of how at that moment his little boy was probably settling into bed and picking one of the many stories his babysitter Alex had brought over for him. He smiled a little at the thought, already so ready to give Jack some snuggles when he got home that night. 

He made eye contact with a girl in the front row who was smiling at him excitedly. With a wink he pulled his mind back to the present and leaned into the standing mic that was placed in front of him. 

“So I know you guys came out tonight hoping that I’d do all my hits, and I _will,_” He said, drawing out his voice to make the audience laugh. He pulled off the strap for the guitar he’d been using and switched it out for the one his crew member brought out. “—but I need to slow it down a bit right now.”

He got himself situated on his barstool and made sure the microphones were working correctly before leaning back in to speak. The crowd had calmed down now that his band had left him alone on the stage for a water break, and the lights had dimmed to just a spotlight, making the space much more intimate.

“I’ve been listening to these guys for years now and I’ve been dying to cover one of their songs. You all know I love country music, and I hate that it always gets a bad rap, don’t you?”

He waited for the collective hooting to calm down before he continued. “It drives me crazy that people say it’s not real music when some of the greatest stories ever told were told through country songs. I’ve gotten through a lot of hard times in my life because of so many of the greatest country artists, Garth Brooks, Alan Jackson, George Strait… Johnny Cash.”

More shouts of excitement filled the room.

“Country music comes from the soul, just like so many other genres, and these guys know how to write a damn good song. This ones’ called Highway 20 Ride by Zac Brown Band.”

He strummed the first few chords of the song and relished in the peace that washed over the room, allowing him to sink into the words of the song that had been soothing his aching soul in the most heartbreaking way the past few months.

“_I ride east every other Friday but if I had it my way_  
_A day would not be wasted on this drive_  
_And I want so bad to hold you_  
_Son, there's things I haven't told you_  
_Your mom and me couldn't get along_

_So I'll drive_  
_And I think about my life_  
_And wonder why, That I slowly die inside_  
_Every time I turn that truck around, right at the Georgia line _  
_And I count the days and the miles back home to you_  
_on that Highway 20 ride”_

He let each verse of the song speak to everything that swirled inside him, each verse saying what he needed to say.

He thought of Jack each time he heard this song, and just like in the last verse, he prayed that someday Jack would understand that everything Dean did, his whole world really did begin and end with him.

He kept his tears at bay but his voice had noticeably grown thicker by the time he finished. He nearly didn’t register that the room was now on their feet, clapping loudly with smiles on their faces. Dean thought maybe they understood.

It didn’t make the ache go away but it _almost_ made him feel less alone.

* * *

* * *

Some days and weeks were just not as good as others. It was strange, Dean thought, having to get used to the feeling of not always being himself. He tried to keep up pretenses as much as possible, and sometimes could trick himself into believing he felt amazing but other days he just couldn’t quite claw himself out of the murky waters. 

Sometimes he wouldn’t know why he was feeling upset and other days it’d hit him square in the gut. He’d see a parent holding their child’s hand as they crossed the street and suddenly hate that person for getting to be with their kid that day or he’d hear someone on the phone with their spouse asking what they wanted from the grocery store and he’d feel lonelier than ever. 

The feelings often came and went with no rhyme and reason but Dean was getting really good and realizing that maybe this was just who he was now. 

There wasn’t anything wrong with it but it still took some getting used to. 

He felt mostly off that day and it was another one of those days he couldn’t quite pinpoint why. He’d had a great morning with Jack but his smile still strained a little at the edges and his jaw ached from the persistent clenching he didn’t realize he was doing. 

He practiced some breathing as he drove himself to a small coffee shop on the outskirts of the city. It bummed him out to leave Jack with Alex again, even knowing it was only for a few hours, but there were few times here and there where Dean didn’t exactly want to have Jack with him. Having coffee with his ex-wife was definitely one of those times.

Someday Dean knew he’d explain to Jack who Jo was, it wasn’t like Jo wasn’t still a part of Dean’s life. She’d been at the baby shower Mary had thrown for them before Jack was born and she’d been at all of his birthdays, but the little boy didn’t really know who she was apart from being his parents’ friend. 

He still felt like a jackass wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses inside but, as hard as it was to believe, it was one of the best disguises. Most times in public, with sunglasses on, no one gave Dean a second look, especially a random coffee shop a few miles away from the Strip.

Jo too was wearing a hat, her hair pulled into a knot at the back of her head, with overly large sunglasses that covered most of her face. Despite not being able to really see her, she still looked the same as he remembered as they greeted each other with a quick hug.

“I heard you had a talk with my mom,” Jo said by way of greeting.

“Yup,” Dean replied back, popping the ‘p’ as he pulled out Jo’s chair. He’d gone ahead and ordered for her, having gotten her order in the text when they’d set up this little meeting. If he’d gotten her drink wrong, Jo didn’t seem to mind, she’d never been really picky.

“She said you’re not doing so hot.” 

“She has a big mouth, that woman,” Dean groaned, sipping at his hot coffee despite the fact that it was hot as hell outside, even in the shade of the umbrella they were sitting under. 

“That’s my mama you’re talking about,” Jo sassed dramatically before laughing, “And you’re absolutely right she does.”

It’d always felt easy and carefree being around her. No matter what, she seemed to always have a smile and it made Dean grin in return. It might not have actually reached his eyes but there was no way Jo could tell through his dark lenses. 

“How’re you Jo?”

“Good. Been busy with the tour rehearsals and everything.” He was proud that she was getting back on tour after a few years off. After their divorce Jo had kept on singing but when she and her new husband decided they wanted to start a family she took some time off to focus on them. They’d actually settled in Nevada, a few years back, well before Dean had started the show, to live closer to Ellen.

“Ash and Rosie going with you?” He asked, figuring he already knew the answer.

“Yup!” Jo replied happily, before biting her lip through a smile and touching her belly. “So is mister in here, but he’s got no choice.”

Dean’s eyes bugged out of his head and he felt his jaw pop open. His smile from early easily morphed in to overwhelming excitement. 

“Seriously? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I just did,” Jo snarked. 

“You know what I mean. Congratulations!”

“We’re excited.” She was positively glowing, now that he really paid attention. He felt so genuinely happy that everything had turned out for her even better than he’d imagined. He’d always wanted that for her, to find happiness that he knew he’d never be able to give her. She was a great human with an incredible heart and Dean would always love her, but as his family and great friend. It was heartwarming to watch her get the life he’d always known she deserved. 

“How’s Jack?” Jo asked, cutting into his thoughts and pulling him back to the moment. He thought about the little boy he had waiting for him back at his house and knew he was about to blabber too much about that kid. But Jo would understand 

“The best,” he gushed, already moving to pull his phone out. “We’ve been building all these Lego sculptures and the kid can’t stop talking about snakes lately either. He’s just so curious about everything.”

“I hear that.” Jo agreed. “I swear Rosie asks me eighteen-hundred questions a day.”

“It’s like they have it out to make us realize we really know nothing.” They both laughed in mutual understanding. Kids, especially curious toddlers, were some of the most fascinating creatures on the planet. And Dean could talk about his for hours.

They chatted for a bit (or a bit longer than a bit) about their kids, as any parent would, sharing fond memories and relating to one another in some struggles. It was once Jo’s iced coffee started to turn to watery coffee and Dean’s coffee was essentially lukewarm, that Jo shifted gears.

“How’s Cas?”

He knew this conversation was coming ever since his talk with Ellen but it made his stomach roll all the same. 

“Hates me.” Dean confessed, his shoulders slumped just thinking about it. “He can barely stay in the same room with me for longer than five minutes without our shrink there.”

A lot had changed in their lives since he and Jo had gotten divorced, and eleven years ago Dean never would have imagined being able to sit down and vent to her about his marital issues with the man he left her for. But eleven years gave them time to mature and grow into people who understood that friendship was right for them.

Jo had always been someone Dean could count on and now was no exception. 

“You’ll get through it,” she promised sincerely. He could tell she wanted to reach over and grab his hand but she was wise enough to withhold, especially if someone was lurking.

And as much as Dean wanted the reassurance that he and Cas would come out the other side of this all, he wasn’t convinced. 

“I’m not so sure,” he said hoarse.

“You will.”

He bit his lip and frowned.

“We didn’t.”

“We didn’t even try.” The straightforward way the words came out of her mouth told Dean that it was water long under the bridge. It was just the truth of the matter. They hadn’t tried. There hadn’t been any sit down or a long talk about what they should and shouldn’t do. It had been Dean confessing to falling in love with someone else, Jo crying then screaming at him to leave, and then they were separated. 

“Still, fifty percent of marriages end in divorce.” 

“And fifty percent last,” Jo countered. “Considering we didn’t make it, the odds seem to say this second marriage has to last. Fifty-fifty.” 

“Tell that to the people who are onto their third or fourth marriage.” 

“That won’t be you and Cas.” 

“How do you know?” 

“It’s different for you guys.” 

“How?” 

He knew he was reaching, vying for any and all validation that he and Cas would make it. He felt pathetic at times but sometimes he just needed to hear it from others, that the love he and Cas had was as good as he always thought it was. That they had something special enough to fight for. 

“You two have just always been right for each other. I can’t explain it.”

Even Dean couldn’t explain it himself. Something about Cas had just filled a void in Dean he hadn’t known existed and that man had just kept filling parts of Dean he didn’t know he needed.

Back in their happiest of moments together Cas had said the same thing. That he felt a profound connection with Dean, a bond he’d never shared with anyone else, like the universe was drawing them together.

Maybe now the universe had just changed its mind.

Just up and decided Dean didn’t deserve good things anymore.

“Things change,” he argued, hating the way the words tasted in his mouth but Jo didn’t accept that. 

“Or they don’t.”

More than anything he wanted to believe her words but the evidence was there. Cas used to say nothing in the world could make him stop loving Dean but look at them now. Maybe whatever higher being wanted to fuck with Dean and twists Cas’s words—of course Cas would love him in some capacity forever, they shared a son together after all, but the love that Dean wanted them to have?

“I know he loves me. I just—I don’t think he’s in love with me anymore.” He was thankful now more than ever for the sunglasses blocking the tears pooling in his eyes. In all his life he’d never been as emotional as these past few months.

“If he really wasn’t, do you think he’d have even agreed to counseling?”

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe think of it this way, because he’s willing to try it means he hasn’t given up as quickly as he could have. Maybe he’s not done loving you either.” Dean could hear his heartbeat in his ears and tried to focus on a young girl walking her dog across the street to keep himself from actually breaking down. It was harder than it seemed.

“Dean, you haven’t lost him yet. Don’t stop fighting.”

He almost let the silence fill the space between them but before he could process the words he was already admitting, “I’m scared.”

“It means it’s worth it. He’s worth it.”

“He’s worth everything.”

Jo drew his attention back to her.

“Don’t forget that.”

Dean nodded frantically before quickly removing his sunglasses and swiping at his face before anyone could recognize him. 

“Fuck—sorry. I keep doing this. First your mom, now you.”

“Big bad Dean has emotions? Damn, I’m shocked.”

“Shut up.” He said playfully, thankful for the change in tone. “Now, show me pictures of your kid so I can show off some of mine.”

“Done and done.”

Without missing a beat, the two of them had swapped their phones and were swiping through some of their saved favorites of their babies. Dean was beaming as he handed Jo back her phone.

“You sure she ain’t mine?”

“You’re not the only green-eyed man I’ve fallen for.” Jo joked back, “But I’d be careful trying to claim her, my husband can wipe you from existence.”

“She’s beautiful.” He said kindly as he pushed back from his chair. “Tell Ash I said hi.”

“Love ya, ugly.”

“Right back at you.”

They hugged quickly before going their separate ways, with Dean promising to keep her posted on how things turned out for him and Cas.

He felt a little uneasy still, but it felt good to have one more person in his corner.

* * *

* * *

Dean was exhausted by the time they arrived back at Cas’s house. A storm had hit during the drive and with his baby in the backseat, Dean couldn’t be too careful. It took nearly an extra hour to get home. He’d already secured it with his brother to crash on his couch for the night.

Jack, however, was jovial as ever, running into the house and straight into Cas’s legs.

“Papa!!”

“Hi honeybee, how was your time at daddy’s?”

“Fun!” Jack yelled, making Cas automatically pull a face to remind him they were indoors. Instead of Jack starting to relay everything that he and Dean did together, he looked up at Cas and asked, “Papa are you still sad with daddy?”

“What do you mean?”

“He say he forgot to put his toys away too and you sad with him.”

“Oh?”

Cas looked up at Dean and the two shared the same equally confused look. Dean had talked to his son about that weeks ago, how had he even still remembered?

“Daddy is sorry,” Jack announced, tugging at Cas’s pant leg to make sure he was listening. Dean could see Cas trying to plaster on a neutral face, perhaps thinking Dean was trying to use their son to negotiate between the two of them.

Dean cringed a little as Cas said, “I know daddy is sorry.”

“You give him hugs now?”

Heat was rushing to Dean’s cheeks as he felt the awkwardness rise in the room. Cas’s back was tense.

“I don’t know, honey. I don’t think daddy wants hugs right now.” Apparently Cas’s words were unfathomable as Jack turned back to Dean with wide eyes.

“You no want hugs?”

Needing some form of damage control and wanting to be far, far away from Cas before he blew up at Dean for trying to get Jack to meddle between them, Dean bent down to reach out his arms to his son.

“I do from my best boy. Come here. Daddy has to go.” Only, Jack didn’t budge.

“Papa.” He demanded, tugging at Cas’s hand. “You need to give hugs. You always give hugs when I say sorry.”

Dean didn’t know what to do. He looked up at Cas, trying to make sure the other man knew that this was a misunderstanding, but Cas wouldn’t look at him. Jack’s insistence had now brought them within a few feet of one another.

“Okay. Okay!” Cas conceded, voice strained. “I’ll give daddy hugs.”

“Cas, it’s alright.” Dean argued through clenched teeth but Jack whined again.

“Daddy, you have to say it.”

“Say what?” Dean pleaded, hoping his son would change his mind but Jack only looked put out.

“Say sorry.”

“Right. Okay. I’m sorry.” Dean muttered, only looking at Jack.

“Now Papa can give hugs. Biiiiig hugs,” Jack declared, stretching his arms out wide to show just how big of a hug it should be.

Dean didn’t know if he should initiate it or not, he didn’t know what he was supposed to do at all. He hadn’t gotten to touch Cas in months and he felt like he wasn’t in control of his own body. But Cas took it out of Dean’s hands, stepping forward with his arms stretched out.

It was only then that Dean realized what was happening.

Every ounce of strength he’d been desperately holding on to crumbled when he felt Cas’s arms around him. He didn’t want to be this affected. He didn’t realize that he’d been missing this touch for so damn long that it made him feel like he’d been cracked wide open.

It terrified him that the first thought that ran though his mind was, _what if this is the last time I get to hold him?_ He didn’t realize his arms had wound around Cas until he felt them tighten into the hold.

It wasn’t fair.

He didn’t want to feel like he had the whole world there with him when he knew it was about to be ripped from him in seconds.

He knew Cas could feel him shaking, breathing unsteadily. Maybe that was what made Cas pull away, practically wrenching himself from Dean’s embrace. 

Dean couldn’t look at him. He didn’t want to see indifference looking back at him when his heart felt like it was crumbling. He moved towards Jack pulling him into a hug before Jack could figure out how upset Dean was. 

“I’ll see you in two weeks buddy.” He whispered into his son’s hair. “Have a great time with Papa. I love you so much.”

“Love you!”

Dean didn’t wait for another word. He rushed out of the house and down towards his truck, flinging himself into the driver seat before he buried his head in his arms and cried.

How pathetic did Cas think he was now? Surely Cas thought that Dean was using Jack to win him back. He was probably so furious that Dean couldn’t initiate an apology himself but had to rely on Jack to do it even if it wasn’t what happened at all. Why had Jack said anything? No, why had Dean gone and made up some stupid story about Cas being sad with him. What was he teaching his son?

Dean was so stupid. Such a fucking idiot.

No wonder Cas could hardly stand him anymore. No wonder he seemed so put off by the thought of hugging Dean.

And what was that hug anyway? Dean would put money on the fact that Cas was probably laughing to himself about how pitiful Dean was, getting so emotional over a single hug. Would he laugh to other people and tell them how much of a train wreck Dean was now? Was he counting down the days until their therapy sessions were over and he could sign Dean away from his life for good?

He realized after a few minutes too long that he was still in Cas’s driveway and Cas had just flicked on the porch light, probably giving Dean the signal to get the fuck off his property and leave him alone already. Dean couldn’t blame him.

He debated skipping town and heading straight back to Vegas but was exhausted to the bone. Instead of driving in the direction of Sammy’s place where he said he was going to stay, he found a decent hotel and decided to crash there for the night, sending his brother a text saying he needed some time alone.

He should’ve stayed with Sam.


	7. Chapter 7

#  **Dean Winchester a bad father? Inside sources reveal Nanny is raising four-year-old while singer parties each weekend. CJ Novak is furious.**

* * *

* * *

* * *

Bela.

It had to be her who’d released those pictures of him at the club, who gave away the details of what weekends Dean had Jack, and let the world know just how often Dean relied on a babysitter to watch his son.

Normally Dean was forgettable. The general public had grown bored of him a few years back and it was rare that his name made front covers or trending topics yet somehow this put all their panties in a twist. Now all he could see as he lifted his phone up were furious people, messaging him and tagging him, telling him he should give full custody to Cas, that he should put his family first and stop being so selfish—that he should never have adopted Jack in the first place if he just wanted to party all the time.

He hid out in the random hotel room, scrolling through all the negative words. Letting each one of them seep into his skin, and burrow into the parts of him that knew the words were true. 

Two beautiful lights, those two perfect angels and somehow someone as loathsome as Dean got them? Why should he have a family that beautiful? How could he live with himself with the heartbreak he subjected them through? 

Who really could ever love Dean? 

The words… they burrowed.

It’s what he deserved for firing Bela. 

It’s what he deserved for fucking his whole life up. 

Somewhere inside of him he knew he should ask Charlie to screen it all, to delete all words from being seen. But the damage was already done. 

The people he thought understood him now wanted to eat him alive. 

Because of one night--one night he took to himself to party for a friend’s birthday. Jack was with Cas that weekend.

But who cared? It didn’t diminish how much of a failure Dean was. 

Who would care for his side of the story now anyway? They’d made up their mind. This “anonymous source” was more credible than anything Dean could say in the eyes of the public because at one point in his life he’d decided to divorce his wife to marry a man.

He hated it. He hated them. He hated himself for having this life in the spotlight. He hated every fucking headline, every snarky pap waiting outside his home or workplace with a microphone or camera in his face whenever he did anything that they didn’t like. But they didn’t know him! They didn’t know a fucking thing about him, especially his ability to be a parent. And now that shit hit the fan with Cas, everyone and their mothers seemed to think they could meddle in Dean’s life and tell him just how worthy he was of keeping his family.

Consensus was—not very.

They blamed him for destroying yet another marriage—for bringing a kid into their life and not being a good role model for his son.

He couldn’t take it anymore.

The words. The words had made a tunnel. Right to his core. A hole that needed to be filled. 

The bottle in his backseat was the only thing that wouldn’t be disappointed in him, so he let himself be comforted and filled that void.


	8. Chapter 8

He woke up to persistent beeping and an ache throughout his entire body. His limbs refused to move as he tried to reach for his phone to turn off his alarm. Unable to get his arm to cooperate he forced his eyes to blink into the harsh light beaming into his face, making him groan in discomfort at the feeling.

What the hell had he done last night? He’d never felt this awful after a night of drinking but he must have gone hard if his body hurt this much and he could barely move.

It took him a few moments of blinking to realized he didn’t recognize his environment. The unforgiving fluorescent tube lights and the paneled ceiling immediately told him he wasn’t at home, nor was he in a hotel.

Fighting the urge to fall back asleep he lifted his head with a grunt, scanning around the room. The machines and the bed he was currently occupying were all he needed to see to know where he was.

But how the fuck had he ended up in the hospital? 

That’s when he saw him—his husband, disgruntled and disheveled glaring at him with so much scorn it could light an entire village on fire.

Before he could say another word, strangers were coming in and speaking rapidly, shining lights in his eyes and taking his blood pressure.

“Sir? Sir? Can you tell me your name?”

“Dean.”

“Do you know where you are?”

“Hospital.”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

He stopped for a moment, retracing everything he could remember of the past few days. Then it hit him.

“Car accident.”

“That’s right. You were in an accident late last night. You suffered blunt force trauma to the head and were unconscious for most of the night. Your left wrist is sprained and you’ve sustained deep lacerations to your left side and leg. You were very lucky.”

“Was anyone—was anyone—”

“No. No one else was involved in the accident. Witnesses say you swerved out of the way of a coyote and lost control. Your car rolled four times.”

His heart pounded in his chest remembering the accident but even then, his focus had been hazy at best.

“Toxicology reports indicated that you were heavily intoxicated at the time of the incident. As I stated before, you got lucky.”

He didn’t know what to say. Nothing he could say would make any of it okay. He knew he wouldn’t hear the end of this. He only half listened as the doctor lectured him about the danger of his actions before agreeing to an extra night of monitoring due to just being unconscious for over ten hours.

As she walked out Dean finally spared a glance towards Cas. If his husband heard his heart monitor increase, he didn’t mention, as the pure fury wafting off of him was too potent.

He looked haggard, his hair sticking up in all directions, the permanent bags under his eyes more pronounced. It looked like he hadn’t slept in days and Dean wondered how long he’d even been hanging around the hospital. Had he just gotten there?

Dean didn’t have time to ask any questions before Cas’s scariest voice came out.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

Heat rose up Dean’s shoulders and neck, his defensiveness fighting its way to the surface. Yet he said nothing because he wasn’t thinking. He hadn’t been thinking about anything besides how much he hated all the words--everything people were spitting at him for that picture being released.

They were right. He wasn’t fit to be a dad or a husband. He was an embarrassment and soon the whole fucking world would know what he’d just done. He would be a laughing stalk, probably be cut out of his contract for having a bad image—and that would be it. No one would want to work with him. He’d be done. He’d lose everything and wouldn’t be able to support his family. If his family would even want him.

His mind continued to spiral into negative thoughts, leaving Cas without an answer.

“Dean!” He shouted, “What were you thinking? Or were you even thinking? You could have gotten yourself killed.”

A hysterical laugh fought its way up Dean’s throat but he coughed it back.

“Why are you here?” he asked instead. Because why was Cas here? What did he care that Dean had been in an accident? Of anyone, he was surprised to not see his brother.

“Why am I here?” Cas’s voice grew progressively more strained. “Because I got a phone call that my husband was in a car accident and it was imperative that I showed up! So answer the question: what the fuck were you thinking driving while drunk?”

He knew he should keep his mouth shut and just let Cas throw whatever anger he had at Dean but Dean wasn’t able to do that. Maybe out of embarrassment, maybe out of anger towards himself, or maybe because deep down he was actually scared, he let himself get defensive.

“What do you care?”

“What do I care? How could you even—”

Dean was almost surprised to see Cas look so… hurt, but he didn’t want to hear what Cas had to say. This was embarrassing enough as it was, being cooped up in a hospital because he was an idiot. He didn’t need a lecture from his soon-to-be ex-husband who hated him more than anything.

He didn’t need his stupid heart to think Cas actually wanted to be by his side.

“Just go. I’m alive. You don’t need to be here.” He sounded defeated, even to his own ears, but it made sense because he was. The only reason Cas was here at all was probably because he was still Dean’s emergency contact and felt duty bound to show up, even though he didn’t need to.

Now that he was here though, he had every ounce of evidence he needed to realize that staying married to Dean was a mistake. Dean knew this had to be the end for them and if the look of disgust on Cas’s face was anything to go by, Cas knew it too.

“Seems how you’re incapable of making intelligent choices, I think it’s wiser that I stay.” Dean could feel his blood boil as Cas’s voice raised. He took it though. He deserved to be yelled at and Cas didn’t seem to want to back down. “You’re LUCKY that I spoke with the officers already and that they’re a fan of you. You’re lucky that you’re getting off with just a slap on the wrist and that the toxicology report _miraculously_ happened to turn up clean. You’re lucky that you even made it out of this alive.”

Dean didn’t fully understand why any of it was happening but somehow, he registered that his career was being salvaged. But why? Who cared enough to not want Dean to be dragged even further through the mud? He deserved it.

“Are you just here to yell at me?” Dean asked, defeated. He slumped back against the bed, groaning as his body protested the sudden movement. “I know I fucked up. Just—just go back home.”

Cas’s tired blue eyes stared him down for a moment and Dean wondered what was going through his mind. He didn’t expect to hear the words that finally tumbled from his husband’s lips.

“You’re not getting Jack next week.”

Heavy bricks pressed down on Dean’s lungs making panic flare up in the disguise of anger.

“You can’t do that!” He shouted, his mind swirling with the realization that this would ruin him. Screw his career, screw his reputation—none of it mattered as much as being a father to his kid.

But this was the perfect opportunity for Cas to take his son away. Dean physically couldn’t do anything about it nor could he make a case for being allowed to keep him now that he’d just endangered his life from his idiotic choices.

Cas knew that. So he was using it.

“I can and I am.”

Suddenly he hated this man before him. He hated him more than he’d ever hated anything because Cas knew what Jack meant to Dean. He knew that this, above all else would kill Dean yet he didn’t seem remorseful at all. Instead he looked like he was relishing in Dean’s pain.

His voice was in full yell as Castiel grabbed his things from the couch.

“He’s my son! You can’t keep him from me.”

“Technically I haven’t had to let him go with you at all,” Cas screamed back, rounding on Dean and pointing his finger in the way he only did when he was righteously pissed. “So count your blessings that you’ve seen him at all!”

Blackness swarmed the edges of his vision but he fought off the terror the only way he knew how, shouting hostilely at the man he was supposed to spend his life with.

“Fuck you! You fucking son of a bitch. You can’t do this!”

“I can’t do this? But you can drink and drive and almost kill yourself? What if my son was in the car with you? What if Jack was in this hospital right now because you couldn’t be a fucking adult!”

Images of that swirled through his mind, tormenting him, making his throat close up as tears swarmed his vision.

“I’d never do that! I’d never do that and you know it!” He sobbed, begging Cas to understand. Dean would never put their son in harm's way, he’d never let anything happen to his baby.

But Cas didn’t believe him. Why would he? Why would he when Dean was stuck in a hospital bed after putting himself in danger?

“I don’t know that anymore. I hardly know _you_ anymore, Dean, so I’m not letting you take my son if this is the type of man you are now. If you’ve gotten your shit together in a few weeks I might let Jack go with you. Until then, he stays with me.”

He didn’t miss the words “my son” or “might” and felt all the life seap out of him.

“Cas, please. Please don’t do this. I need to see him.”

“Then grow up.” That’s all Cas said before he walked out the door with Dean calling after him.

“Cas!” He pleaded to the back of his husband’s head. “Cas! Don’t do this!” His begging was futile. Cas disappeared behind the door of the room and nothing Dean could say would make the man listen to him.

“Please… ” he whimpered to himself before the tears began to flow.

* * *

* * *

It was three days after the accident and he canceled two weeks of shows half because his wrist was too sore to pick up his guitar and half because he didn’t want anything to do with putting on a cheerful face for a bunch of adoring fans. He just wanted to mope.

A lot.

He hadn’t talked to anyone, aside from Charlie who was handling everything with the show and any meetings he was scheduled to have. So it only came as a partial surprise when someone started banging on his front door.

He wanted to ignore it but as soon as he heard his brother shouting through the door, he knew he couldn’t.

“Let me in or so help me I’m busting this goddamn door down!”

The last thing he wanted to do was deal with his perfect, self-righteous, there-is-good-in-everything brother. But he was already there and it wasn’t like Sam was willing to just leave, by the sounds of it.

His feet dragged towards the front door before he flipped the lock, turning immediately to start walking back to his room where he’d been hidden under his covers for a few days straight.

_Dean is taking time to rest and spend time with his family for the next two weeks as his wrist heals from the accident. We apologize for any inconvenience this caused and are issuing refunds or changes in show dates if you reach out to our customer service department._

It was laughable. 

He just wanted to be alone. He didn’t want anyone around him when he didn’t know which way was up.

“No!” Sam shouted at his back. “No you don’t get to walk away from this Dean!”

That only worked to pissed Dean off. He rounded on his brother.

“You’re in _my_ house. You don’t get to storm in here and start screaming at me.”

“Like hell I don’t! I’m your brother and I had to hear from your fucking assistant that you weren’t dead! You don’t understand how fucking terrified I was having your husband show up at my doorstep with your inconsolable kid and tell me you’d been in an accident and then not fucking answering his phone. You don’t get to have a fucking pity party for yourself anymore. You need help!”

The words would have stung a hundred times more if Dean hadn’t been thinking it himself, if he hadn’t seen the mangled version of his truck—the same truck he bought knowing he’d be driving his son across state borders in twice a month; the same truck he scoured reviews on to make sure it was infinitely safer than the 67 Chevy Impala he’d driven all his life.

He did that. He got in that truck, knowing he wasn’t okay to drive and drove anyway. He could have hurt someone else, he could have _killed_ someone else, or he could be dead right now. Unable to watch his little boy grow up, graduate high school, get his first job, learn how to drive… it could’ve all been over. And for what?

“You don’t think I know that?” He asked desperately. “You don’t think that’s what I’ve been trying to do these past few months? I’ve been working my ass off trying to be better and do better but I’m still a fuck up to everyone.”

“Why? Because some gossip column decided to do their job and post gossip? Boo-hoo Dean, grow up.”

“Fuck you!”

“All you did was give the press more reason to be on your ass. I’m surprised no one’s caught word of what happened yet. You’re lucky. You got lucky.”

Cas’s words came rushing back to his mind. His husband telling him that the cops were letting him off with a slap on his wrist. That Dean was even lucky Cas let him see Jack in the first place.

Jack… Cas was going to take away Jack.

He couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t pretend to be angry when all he felt was misery. The minute he woke up in that hospital he knew he’d fucked it all up. Cas was never going to take him back and now he had every reason to keep Jack away from him. He was never going to see his kid anymore and he felt like his whole world had completely fallen apart.

“Except when Cas uses this against me to take Jack away…”

He fell to his knees, unable to hold it back. He was terrified for his future. He was terrified that he was now going to be downgraded to some far away person Jack hardly ever saw, would hardly even remember someday.

“I fucked up Sammy. I fucked up and I’m gonna lose him.” He didn’t realize Sam had joined him on the floor until his brother’s voice was close to him.

“You’re not.”

“You didn’t hear him. You didn’t hear Cas. He said I couldn’t see him anymore.”

He knew he was a sight. Three-day old clothes, unwashed, with tears crusted down his cheeks while new ones fell uncontrollably. He hated being this person and he hated that his brother was seeing him like this. He was supposed to be the big brother, the put together one with his life all figured out, ready to instill his wisdom on his little brother. But that’d never been the case. Sam had always been better at life than Dean was, he was so much smarter, so much kinder than Dean could ever be. Even now while Dean was a wreck on his hallway floor after nearly giving his brother a heart attack, Sam still tried to lift Dean up.

“He didn’t mean it,” he said in almost a whisper.

“He did. He was so mad. He hates me Sammy,” Dean choked on his words, sobbing openly now. “He hates me so much he’s gonna take my son away.”

“He’d never do that. I know he was mad but Dean he’d never do that to you.”

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”

In any other circumstances he’d never allow his brother to pull him into a hug but Dean was weak and couldn’t pull away.

“You’re gonna go lay down and you’re gonna sleep for a while, and when you wake up we’re gonna talk.”

Sleep sounded beautiful but so did laying on the floor and feeling sorry for himself a little while longer.

He felt as much like a train wreck as he probably looked. What would the world think of him now? The man with the picture-perfect life. The man with the polished Instagram and envious adventures. The man with the nice house and the classic sports car. The man with the job others would kill for. What would they think if they saw him for what he is? Just a guy with a drinking problem, a car gathering dust in his garage, a job he loathed going to, and a family that was slipping through his fingers.

If only people knew that the grass was never greener.

If only he’d known when he was just a teenager that this is how far he’d fall.

“I wish none of this would have happened.” His voice was harsh, grating against his vocal chords.

He only remembered his brother was still holding him up when Sam squeezed his arms around him a little tighter.

“It was a mistake, a stupid, reckless mistake but—”

“Not that… not the accident,” Dean cut in. “This. All this. I wish I never had this life.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do.”

Dean jolted as his brother moved him to sit up against the wall, shoulder to shoulder. Sam sighed, “Dean, this life got you Jack… and Cas.”

“No. It made me lose them,” he blubbered. “My husband stopped loving me and my kid will grow up knowing all the mistakes I’ve made. He’ll hate me eventually too.”

“No one hates you.”

“Cas does.”

“He doesn’t. Trust me Dean, he doesn’t.”

Dean’s body felt like lead as he turned his head to look over at his brother.

“How do you know?”

“Because you didn’t see him. No one looks the way he did when they hear someone they hate is in the hospital. No one looks that broken if they don’t care anymore.”

He wanted to deny it but he shoved it down. It was cruel of Sam to give Dean any hope at all but he was going to cling to it with greed because he had little else to hang on to.

* * *

Monday

_Dean:_ Can I talk to him?

Tuesday

_Dean:_ Please answer.

Wednesday:

_Dean:_ I just want to say goodnight.

Thursday:

_Dean:_ Don’t do this.

_Dean:_ Let me talk to him. It’s been a week.

_Dean:_ Cas please

The metal of his phone had warmed in his palms as he held on to it desperately, willing it to just ring. He wanted to be angry. He wanted to drive over to California and give Cas a piece of his mind because Jack wasn’t just Castiel’s son, he was both of theirs and it was wrong to keep Dean from him… but it wasn’t at the same time.

Dean had fucked up and Cas had every right to try and protect Jack from the mess Dean had turned his life into but it didn’t make the hole in his heart any less painful.

He was just about to tuck in for the night when the sound of the Facetime app had him jolting upright and attempting to look somewhat human.

He could almost cry at the sight of Jack’s smile on the other side of the phone.

“Hey, buddy.”

“Daddy! Are you better now?”

His wrist hurt every time he moved it wrong, his stitches were starting to get itchy and the bruises up and down his side were beginning to turn a nasty shade of yellow, but his kid didn’t need to know any of that.

As convincingly as he could muster, he smiled brightly and said, “I’m feeling much better.”

“Papa said you got in a car crash.”

“I did.”

Jack bowed his head so that Dean could only see the tips of his bangs.

“I was so sad.”

“It’s okay to be sad,” Dean encouraged, hoping that Jack didn’t ever think he was disappointed in him for feeling any and all of his emotions. “I’m okay though. Promise.”

“Papa was so sad too.”

Dean tried not to let the implication of those words get to him; he tried not to imagine that Castiel had been as upset, as distraught, as Dean would have been if the situation were reversed. He tried not to think it but he was weak to his hopes. He rationalized it with himself still. Because even though Cas hated him now, it must’ve still sucked to tell their child than Dean had been in an accident—it wouldn’t be unheard of to be relatively sad about it. Jack probably misinterpreted Cas’s frown as being ‘so sad.’

“I made Papa worry,” Dean supplied. “I’m so sorry I made you both worry. It won’t happen again.”

“Do you have lots of owies?” The sheer empathy in Jack’s little voice had Dean filling up with pride.

“Yeah, I got kind of banged up but they’re all getting better. I’m gonna be okay,” he promised.

At least his son could know Dean would be okay physically, though nothing could really be said about how Dean would be emotionally after all this, especially if things went the way he was expecting them to.

God he already missed his son like crazy and it hadn’t even been a fraction of the time Cas was going to keep him away. What was he going to do if Cas kept Dean away from their son longer than just this month? He’d lose his mind.

It broke his heart to hear Jack ask for the one thing Dean couldn’t give him at the moment. 

“Can I come over, daddy?”

It felt ten times more difficult to breath all of a sudden. All he wanted to do was say yes and start driving back home but he knew that wouldn’t be okay. “Maybe when I’m feeling a little better. In a few weeks,” he said instead.

Something in Jack’s demeanor shifted, all his emotions rising to the surface causing his bottom lip to protrude in a way Dean knew meant tears. He tried to jump in for damage control.

“Hey, buddy, don’t be sad. Daddy just needs to rest a little so his owies get better. It’s okay.”

He didn’t know if it was being denied the chance to see Dean, talking about his dad getting hurt, or just being overly tired but pitiful cries were coming from the four-year-old now and Dean’s heart cracked wide open.

“Shh, shh. It’s okay. Don’t cry buddy, it’s okay,” he rambled over the call, watching as Cas swooped in to pull Jack into a hug. The other man kept Jack’s face on the screen so Dean could still talk. “I love you. I love you so much, Jack.”

Jack was leaning up against what looked like Cas’s chest and had the most pitiful puppy dog eyes as he said back, “Love you.”

“Let me talk to Papa. Goodnight buddy.”

“Night.”

He waited for a little for Cas to tuck Jack in and pick the phone back up before Dean jumped into apologizing for what he just put Jack through, “I’m sorry—I’m sorry for making him cry. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Cas sighed. His voice rumbled in the same way it always did when he hadn’t been getting enough sleep or drinking enough water. “He’s just been worried. I think he’s relieved that you really are okay.”

The guilt wasn’t settling. He felt so selfish calling his son just to hear from him only to make the boy upset. Knowing he was the one to make Jack cry and not being able to comfort him felt awful.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I actually—” Cas had moved into their room, Dean could tell by the wood slatted headboard behind him. In that moment, Dean realized that this was their first conversation outside of therapy or rescheduling their time with Jack. He almost didn’t hear when Cas said, “I think it’d be good if he could see you.”

“But you said—”

“I know. I’m not saying you can have him for a few more weeks but after our session with Pamela on Saturday I think you should take him to lunch or ice cream, just so he can spend time with you.”

“Okay.” Dean responded eagerly, not willing to question Cas’s decision for a second. This weekend was supposed to be his time with Jack anyway and he would have been miserable not seeing him at all. Even if it was just an hour or two, Dean wasn’t going to turn it down.

He was still pissed at Cas for taking the option out of Dean’s hand about having Jack the following week, but it wasn’t the time or place to bring it up. All he could manage was a weak, “Thank you.”

The discussion was decisively over then when Cas nodded and said, “See you then.”

He hung up before Dean could even say a farewell.

* * *

* * *

“I understand things have been tense lately.”

Tense wasn’t the word Dean thought he’d pick to sum up the past few days. Heartbreaking, exhausting, dark, frustrating, desperate—those were all words Dean might use to describe, in part, what he’d felt like he’d been going through since the accident. But he figures ‘tense’ was the easiest way to put it.

Even the office felt stiff. Fresh cleaner had just been used on the surfaces, the decorations on the shelf behind the couch were immaculately placed, the pillows on the long leather couch recently fluffed, the coffee table before them was clear of the magazines and pens that usually cluttered the top. Even Pamela was dressed more formally, a pencil skirt and dress blouse today opposed to her more casual pattern bottoms and loose t-shirts.

“Would either of you care to elaborate?” Neither of them made eye contact with her, causing her to pry. “Castiel, how about you?”

The words came out of his husband’s mouth almost robotically, there couldn’t be less emotion there if he tried.

“Almost two weeks ago Dean got into an accident due to drinking and driving. The car rolled four times and he was in and out of consciousness for eight hours.”

Facts. Just facts like Cas loved to do. Dean had known the man long enough to know that the less emotion he had in his words the more pissed he was and sometimes Dean just wanted Cas to get mad too. Dean was always the hot headed one and Cas was always so collected. What he wouldn’t give to not be the one blowing up at a situation. Why couldn’t Cas just say what he thought.

Oh well, Dean had stuff on his chest he wanted to get off, and he wasn’t afraid to be upset.

“But I only got a sprained wrist and some stitches in my side. I was fine but then Cas decided to tell me he wouldn’t let me have my son even though it’s my week. Even though he knows I’d never drink around Jack. I never do. I never have.”

Pamela didn’t take her eyes off of Cas as she addressed Dean, “I don’t believe Cas was finished. Castiel, may I ask how found out that Dean had been in an accident?”

Knowing he was essentially benched, Dean turned his attention to his husband, fighting to instinct to pry the other man’s fingers away from where he was picking at the pilling at the bottom of his shirt--the reason why he always had holes in his shirts and had to steal Dean’s.

“I got a call from the hospital.”

“I imagine that was an unusual situation,” Pamela commented, “could you share what you thought or felt when you got that call?”

Cas stayed silent for a while, long enough for Dean to believe that the other man wasn’t willing to share at all. Maybe he hadn’t thought or felt much of anything. Sam said Cas had looked upset but maybe it was Sam’s own panic that made him see things. As much as it stung, maybe Dean needed to face the fact that Cas just didn’t care anymore. He’d already checked out of their marriage, so why not check out of worrying about Dean?

Those thoughts were interrupted when a faint whisper came from that side of the couch.

“I was terrified.”

It felt like watching a wave hit the side of a cliff as pain overtook all of Castiel’s emotions. His face screwed up into despair as he broke down.

“I thought he’d died. They wouldn’t tell me anything no matter how much I asked, they just—they just said it was critical I get there so I just left. I wasn’t even thinking. I dropped Jack off with Sam and drove as fast as I could and when I got there the nurses were so vague until the doctor finally told me that he was still alive but wasn’t waking up.”

It was difficult to understand the words Cas was saying as his voice shook through his tears. Not even for a second had Dean imagined Cas feeling like that. He’d just been so angry with Dean that all he could imagine Cas feeling was hatred towards him.

“It was when they told me he’d been drinking that… I don’t know… I just got so mad because it wasn’t some freak accident. They said there was a coyote but he’d been way over the limit. He knowingly got into that car, knowing he wasn’t okay to drive, and he could have been gone. He could have died and left me and Jack alone and I—” his words cut off with a choked sob, allowing Dean the time to realize he was crying now too. Without saying anything Pamela reached forward and offered them both a tissue.

Cas took a few more breaths before finishing.

“I was terrified, so I lashed out. I told him he couldn’t see Jack because I was… I was so furious with what he put me through. I know he wouldn’t ever put Jack in any sort of danger, ever, but... I couldn’t think straight.”

He sniffed into the tissue, trying to process Cas’s words. He felt raw and guilty and like the biggest piece of shit for putting Cas through that.

He looked over to Cas to say sorry but the man was already staring at him, anguish heavy in his gaze.

“You scared me,” he confessed to Dean, new tears trailing down his cheeks. “And despite what you think and what we’re going through I’m never going to be ready to live in a world without you. I don’t want to lose you like that, or at all. So if only for Jack’s sake... please don’t do that again.”

With that, Dean fell into his hands and sobbed. For everything he’d put Cas through; for the pain it caused their son; for the doubts and hatred he put into his own mind; for the hours he spends driving just to see his son; for the life he thought he’d live; for the disappointment in Sam’s eyes; for the love he was terrified of losing… he sobbed.


	9. Chapter 9

“Please, please, please…” The warm hand on his belly, held him down even firmer as he tried to squirm into the touch. His skin was on fire from the sensations overwhelming him—the tongue swirling around the tip of his cock, the three fingers plunging in and out of him. As his mind whirled with pleasure, he couldn’t help but crave more. He wanted something tighter wrapped around him but the promise of being filled up sounded delicious too.

“Come on, come on, come on,” he begged in between mumbled nonsense, trying to keep his head clear enough to focus but it was futile. His cock bounced towards his belly as that perfect mouth let him go but it was the small twist of the fingers inside him that had him moaning like a pornstar.

“Oh fuck, yeah, like that.”

It was the opposite of what he truly craved when he felt the head of his lover’s thick dick start pushing into him but he was too greedy for touch to care. “Cas!” He called out as the man split him open with one rough thrust.

It hardly made sense how he got there but he didn’t mind. Not with his mind too occupied by the pure heat under his skin with every punch of Cas’s hips against his ass.

It might have been watching their two friends get married. It might’ve been the five tequila shots at the reception or the atmosphere of wine-drunk adults dancing closely on the dancefloor. He couldn’t really know, but when Cas had stopped Dean before he grabbed an Uber and asked him to go back to the house with him, Dean couldn’t see any reason not to. Jack was with Cas’s mom for the night and Dean hadn’t had sex in nearly eight months and despite being pent up with sexual frustration, Dean wanted Cas more than ever.

They’d grabbed the ride together, heatedly staring at one another across the backseat of the car, the air between them electric with desire.

Dean didn’t know who kissed who once they’d gotten through the front door but as soon as he tasted Cas’s tongue, all he could worry about was devouring every inch of that man. He had Cas’s shirt off first and spent as long as he could tasting the skin of his neck and shoulders, before trailing his tongue across his chest, sucking each of the other man’s nipples into his mouth to hear him moan.

The sound had him dropping down onto his knees and frantically releasing Cas from the confines of his tight black slacks. His mouth watered as he finally caught sight of his man’s cock, practically begging to be touched. Instead of taking it into his mouth immediately, he let himself take in the sight. The hairs at the base of his shaft were more unkempt than usual but he still looked perfect, especially as Dean’s eyes gazed up and found deep blue eyes looking at him with hunger.

He kept that eye contact as he opened his mouth and guided the head of Cas’s cock across the flat of his tongue, smirking when he felt it give a mighty twitch. Teasingly he kept licking, around the head, down the shaft, over and over, waiting until Cas lost his mind. He nearly choked when Cas finally couldn’t take it any longer and shoved forward, forcing Dean to loosen enough to suck him down.

Dean gave in to Cas’s desires, sucking hard as he bobbed and twisted his head. He was fully prepared to take all of Cas’s release in his mouth when he felt the sharp sting of his hair being tugged until he was back on his feet, his tongue swirling against Cas’s once more.

They’d fumbled up the stairs after that, pressing up against every surface to rub against each other or ravish each others mouths. It may have taken ages before they’d made it into their room, though it didn’t matter, it was too delicious to dwell on. 

There was no time for sultry strip teases nor was there time to strip each other piece by piece. It had been too long and their need was like another entity in the room. They hurriedly ripped the suits from their bodies before Dean finally made his way to his man and forcefully shoved him back onto the bed. He wanted to eat Cas alive as he climbed on top of him and pressed every inch of their bodies together. Their cocks were lined up just right, so fucking perfectly, that all Dean could think to do was sinfully grind his hips as he tasted every inch of Cas’s mouth. 

He wanted so badly to take Cas apart, to stretch him wide open and sink into that delicious heat and give it to him the way he knew his man needed but when his hands wandered down Cas’s body and tried to tease at his tight hole, his husband just bit Dean’s lip and said, “Nu uh. I’m in charge.”

He loved getting fucked almost as much as he loved fucking Cas. The feeling of being stretched open, the burn of his man pushing into him, the heat that coursed through him as Cas’s thick cock slid against his walls. He loved it, he craved it but what he loved most was Cas’s lips against his neck, against his lips, against the shell of his ear whispering sweet nothings. What he craved was the line of Cas’s body across Dean’s back and the heavy panting against the back of his neck as Cas held them together and refused to let go. What he needed was the desire he felt pouring out of his husband as Dean gave that piece of himself he’d only ever given to Cas but that’s not what Cas was giving him. 

It still felt amazing to see Cas above him, staring down at Dean with heat filled eyes, snapping his hips with abandon but Cas didn’t lean down into the kiss Dean tried to pull him into, he didn’t put his lips on Dean at all now--not even as he commanded Dean in his sexiest voice to roll over. 

But the way Cas’s eyes brimmed with lust was enough at the moment--too pent up with need to argue he complied immediately, greedily sticking his rear out to get filled again. And it felt so damn good. Holy fuck it felt good... but it felt empty too. 

It wasn’t like the love they used to make. It was hot, rough, and scratched the itch Dean was feeling from not getting fucked in months but it wasn’t the same as tasting Cas’s gasps as Dean overwhelmed him with his declarations of love. 

But this was okay too. It felt good to be filled and it sounded like Cas felt amazing, so Dean kept arching into the thrusts, kept circling his hips in the way he knew Cas liked because he wanted this to at least be mutually beneficial.

He gripped his cock when he realized Cas wasn’t going to wrap around to help him out but it still felt nice. The orgasm still washed over him even though it wasn’t as toe curling as most of the others he’d had with Cas and it was still the sexiest thing ever to feel Cas’s come filling him up as Cas groaned behind him.

It was good.

It was.

It was...

He winced a little as Cas pulled out of him too quickly but it gave him the space he needed to plop down on the bed and away from his wet spot, melting into the soft sheets and pillows beneath him.

It took him awhile for his breathing to come down and become more alert of his surroundings. It was then that he realized he’d subconsciously moved onto his side of the bed where the pillows now only smelled like detergent. He looked across the expanse of the mattress only to see Cas not lying beside him but sitting at the edge of the bed with his back turned to Dean.

Something was wrong, Dean could tell, but he was too focused on the flawless skin before him, the scattering of moles across his back that Dean had once spent hours tracing with his lips.

“Hey, come here,” Dean called out, reaching his hand outwards when Cas peered over his shoulder. All Dean wanted was to hold Cas against his chest and breath him in until they fell asleep but Cas didn’t move. 

His face grew cold.

“You should probably go.”

Those were not the words he’d been expecting to hear and both pain and rejection seized his breath. 

“What? Why?”

“We shouldn’t—we shouldn’t have done this.”

It was the last thing Dean wanted to hear and he didn’t think he could take it if Cas really kicked him out. Hadn’t that meant something to Cas too?

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true. This solves nothing.”

“Baby—”

Dean tried to slip across the mattress, to get to his husband and show him that this was _good_ but Cas refused his touch, effectively breaking Dean’s heart.

“Don’t. You need to go,” he demanded, emotionless.

It was that blank stare, the stare Dean had gotten from so many of his early hookups, the stare of indifference, that had the sadness inside him twist into anger. 

“So, what, we just fuck and then you’re over it? You’re just kicking me out?”

“We both knew what this was.”

“Oh did we?” Dean asked petulantly. “Because I don’t think we did. So tell me, what was this for you?”

Dean knew this man. He knew every single thing about him and he _knew_ Cas was closing himself off but Dean couldn’t figure out why. He couldn’t understand how the man he’d spent the past six years married to could suddenly look at him so blankly and say, “It was just release. We were both under the influence of alcohol and it was convenient.”

“There were more than just us two at the damn wedding Cas, it wasn’t just out of convenience.”

“But it would have been immoral to find it with another person when we’re going through—when we’re still—we were both there, we wanted sex, that’s all.”

The thought of seeking someone else was revolting to Dean. The thought of someone who wasn’t Cas touching him like that made him sick but with the words Cas had just said—clearly the other man had considered it before he decided it would be easier to get Dean into bed. He was already desperate enough for any affection from Cas, so why the hell not just fuck him?

“That’s all this was to you? Just getting off conveniently?”

He waited for Cas to answer, to say anything that would help Dean read the stoic look on his face, but he got nothing in return.

He felt dirty and used and it contorted into sheer fury.

“Next time don’t bother with trying to be moral. If you wanna fuck someone else, then fuck someone else. You can get your divorce a hell of a lot faster if you do.”

Maybe it was something in Dean’s words or just his anger but something flashed beneath Cas’s eyes as Dean started frantically gathering his clothes in the need to get the fuck out of there as soon as he could.

“Dean—”

“Fuck you.” 

He didn’t get why Cas was even bothering to try and stop him now. Cas wanted him to go. He’d wanted to use Dean for his hole and kick him out only minutes before, so why was he trying to talk now?

Not able to look at him nor wanting to break down in their old bedroom, Dean shrugged Cas off and made his way out of the house.

* * *

* * *

“Do either of you want to tell me what happened between you two to make you unable to look at one another?”

If there had ever been any progress between them, here with Pamela, they’d effectively burned it to shit. The animosity between them was at an all-time high. The thought of even looking at Castiel made Dean want to punch something. He’d been such a fucking idiot. So caught up in his sorrows that he’d let his soon-to-be-ex fuck him, literally up the ass, and kick him to the curb.

He knew he was effectively as good as dirt in Cas’s eyes. How could someone who said they’d love him for all eternity be so cold after they’d just had sex after months of not touching each other?

He didn’t care to protect Cas or make the situation look better than it was. If Pamela wanted to know what the hell was going on, he was going to lay it all out there.

“We fucked. Last weekend after our friend’s wedding.”

Pamela had an eerie way of remaining perfectly neutral no matter what either of them said and now was no exception. She nodded a few times as she jotted some things down in her notepad before turning back to Dean.

“I take it the interaction did not go the way both of you anticipated?”

“The sex was good, up until Cas kicked me out.”

“I didn’t kick—”

Dean wasn’t about to let Cas jump in and save face.

“Oh so you saying ‘you should go’ before my dick had even gotten soft wasn’t kicking me out?”

“Dean!”

“Dean, let’s try and make this more appropriate for our session.” He felt like a teenager getting scolded. With an eye roll he settled back into the couch and twiddled with his fingers, waiting for Pamela to guide the conversation. “Walk me through what happened.”

It was start and go for a while before both of them finally told her, in as much detail as they could manage, what had happened. Even through their bickering over some details they managed to paint her the whole picture without getting too explicit. 

It took her awhile to jot down a few thoughts on her legal pad before she turned back to them and started diving into the hard stuff.

“Castiel, why did you decide to ask Dean to leave?”

Dean’s attention turned towards the other end of the couch where Cas had pulled a pillow into his lap and was absentmindedly tracing over the detailing. His face turned from calm to stormy in a matter of seconds.

“Because I knew where it could lead,” he explained. “It would’ve turned into cuddling, holding each other, and probably more sex.”

“And why would that be wrong?”

The words were out of Dean’s mouth before he realized he’d even been thinking them. It caused Cas to whip his head around to him.

“Because it doesn’t solve anything!” He spat, “If we’re just using sex and intimacy as a band aide, then we aren’t fixing anything between us!”

“Like you even want to fix anything.”

As the words flew out of his mouth, he instantly wanted to take them back. Cas’s expression turned cold again and Dean knew it was only a matter of seconds before Pamela effectively scolded him for assuming Cas’s intent.

“We’ll come back to that,” Pamela drawled. “Right now, I want to ask you Dean, how did you feel when Cas asked you to leave after you’d both been intimate.”

“Like shit.”

“Could you elaborate more?”

“It just felt really shitty to be kicked out.”

“Because you wanted to stay?”

“That and—” He didn’t want to look at Cas as he said this, but it was almost like a gravitational pull, forcing him to look at his husband before quickly glancing away. “—and I just… I felt trashy after.”

“What do you mean?”

“We don’t… we don’t really change it up in the bedroom, you know?” He didn’t want to explicitly state that ninety percent of the time Dean always gave it to Cas, so he tried to make his words sound more appropriate. 

“We like what we like and it’s good, always really good. But every now and then we’d do things differently and—and I’ve always liked it but it makes me--it makes me feel, too, too...” he struggled to say the word vulnerable but he knew it was implied, “but I like it, with him. It just helps when I feel more wanted and… and when we… when we were together last weekend I just felt like I could’ve been replaced with any other body and it would’ve been the same for him. Then I thought we’d be able to just be together, like cuddling after but he asked me to leave and I realized I _was_ just a warm body. Especially when he said that it was just convenient and implied that he’d have found someone else if we weren’t still married.”

The risk of looking at Cas and seeing any myriad of looks, pity, anger, disgust, or even understanding was too much. Dean kept his eye line on the coffee table in front of them, not even comfortable enough to look at Pamela.

“So you were hurt by the lack of intimacy as well as the suggestion that intercourse with you was not what Castiel sought, but intercourse with anyone, am I correct?”

“Yeah.”

That night and each night after he’d gone through the moment in his head, rewriting it so it would have been different; where Cas had wrapped his arms around Dean and held him all night, or stopped Dean from leaving by saying he didn’t mean any of it and did want Dean to stay, forever perhaps.

He just didn’t know anymore. Some days he believed wholeheartedly Castiel was as invested in fixing their relationship as Dean was but other days he knew in his gut Cas was just counting down until their sessions were over and he could officially opt out of being married.

“Castiel, you look like you have something to say,” Pamela noted. 

Dread filled his gut as he waited for what felt like hours for Cas to finally share what Pamela assumed he’d been thinking.

He knew it wasn’t going to feel good to hear any of it. He didn’t want to hear how much Cas wanted to get laid and knew how desperate Dean was for it. He didn’t want to hear how detached Cas felt from the whole experience and how badly he regretted it. But getting up and leaving was out of the question, it’d solve nothing and give Cas more of a reason to hate him.

“We hadn’t had sex in over nine months,” Cas stated, sounding small and frail. “Even before we separated, we were fighting too much to want to and I saw an opportunity for us to engage in it last weekend and took the chance, damning the consequences.”

Dean’s thoughts ridiculed him with how easy of a fuck he’d been if Cas had just looked at him and known he could get into Dean’s pants. How pathetic did the other man think Dean was? Did he even want to know the answer to that?

He clenched his jaw as Cas continued.

“When… when it was happening, I realized just how much I’d been starving for that intimacy but I could feel Dean wanting it to be more than I was willing to give. I know how easily we usually sweep things under the rug and worry about them later but I just couldn’t…”

His next words came out in hardly a whisper, “I feel like nothing has really changed between us and I can’t let myself trust him again.” Cas sighed heavily and swept his palm over his face. “I _wanted_ him to stay and that’s why I couldn’t let it happen. We’re still barely opening up to each other here and Dean’s still newly sober and… I just couldn’t see anything good coming out of it.”

He should have been happy hearing that Cas hadn’t wanted to kick him out, and maybe a part of him was, but he was too stuck on one singular part of that night to register it.

“Do you want to sleep with other people?” He heard himself asking before he could stop himself. His eyes had now locked on Cas’s face waiting for the inevitable heartbreak.

He expected Cas to take a moment to ponder his answer so it surprised Dean when his husband immediately answered.

“No.”

But it didn’t make sense.

“Then why’d you—”

“Because I assumed you’d thought of sleeping with others so I thought I had to imply I’d thought of it too.”

Dean had to just look at Cas for a moment to process. He didn’t understand how Cas could think Dean wanted to sleep with anyone who wasn’t him. Wasn’t it obvious? They were only here because Dean had begged to go to therapy before divorcing. Dean was putting as much effort possible to try and be better, yet Cas thought he had eyes for others? Thought Dean thought about touching someone who wasn’t the love of his life?”

“I haven’t. Damnit Cas, I’m trying to save us not throw away any shot I’ve got.”

“It’s just not out of the realm of possibilities,” Castiel commented, like Dean was only moments away from having a wandering eye.

Maybe Cas really did worry that Dean would end up treating him like he’d treated Jo but how did he not understand? Hadn’t Dean let him know that what happened with Jo was different, that meeting Cas had opened his eyes to what true love could be? Dean wasn’t just about to start seeking something else when he had the best he could get already.

Despite the look of defiance in Cas’s eyes, Dean needed him to know.

“Yes it is. I don’t want anyone but you.”

“Can I cut in for a moment?” Pamela asked, though neither Dean nor Cas took their eyes off one another. Something was brewing beneath the surface but Pamela clearly didn’t want them to discover it as she added, “I’m curious to know if you two sustained a conversation with one another during the whole interaction, one that wasn’t about Jack.”

Cas’s eyes tore away from Dean’s and dipped down towards the pillows as he exhaled, “…No”

“There, uh, there wasn’t much time…” Dean added awkwardly

“Right. I think this is a good place to pause.”

Dean fought the urge to whine like a teenager being told they had to stop playing video games because dinner was ready. It felt like they were finally getting to some good stuff and Pamela was making them quit too quickly. She sat up straighter in her arm chair and folded her hands in her lap, looking between Dean and Cas with an unusually warm look on her face.

“I’ve seen a lot of progress in the efforts you’ve each been making on yourselves and now I think it’s time we really start working towards focusing our energy on you both as a couple.”

Again, Dean had to bite his tongue, wanting to make some snide comment like, ‘haven’t we been doing that already?’ But he was an adult and could control his urges. (Mostly.)

“Today you both showed patience and essential listening skills that I think are solid foundations towards moving forward. I don’t want us to lose that so for our next session I want to focus on communicating positively with one another so I have an assignment.”

Secretly Dean was pleased to have another assignment, especially if it involved writing in his journal. He’d started to grow a little fond towards writing his thoughts and feelings down regularly. Without trying to seem too eager he tuned into her assignment, hoping it’d be something good.

“I want you each to make a list of things you love about one another with the caveat that you are limited to only one physical attribute. Be prepared to read them to one each other and explain them at the next session.”

Dean’s heart lit up. A list of things he loved about Cas? He had three albums of songs he’d written about his love for that man. He almost wondered if he’d have enough time in the session to list everything he was already thinking of.

But then it dawned on him.

What if his list went on for too long and Castiel barely wrote anything?

What if this proved that Cas didn’t love him as much as Dean love him?

Suddenly, he wasn’t as excited about this assignment as he had been.


	10. Chapter 10

“How about Country Thunder and Stagecoach?”

Instead of instantly saying no, Dean stopped to ponder the first events Linda had suggested that actually sounded interesting to him. They had been on the phone for nearly an hour discussing work and Dean just wasn’t feeling most of the options she’d presented so far. 

“When are those?”

“April, about a few weeks apart.”

He thought back fondly to his younger years when he’d just been starting out and the opportunity to sing for some of the biggest country music festivals was a dream come true. The atmosphere of the crowd was unrivaled and they were some of his best memories of his singing career. The thought of getting back to that scene where people came for a cold beer and a good time, sounded a hell of a lot better than a late-night talk show.

“Yeah, I’m interested,” he said, feeling satisfied with his choice, “really interested.” 

“Alright I’ll follow up in a few weeks when I hear anything. But no on the commercial?”

“Hell no,” he said with a grimace. The last thing he wanted was to bathe in a vat of milk and rave about smelling like forest-must—or whatever the hell cologne ads did anymore. He’s ninety percent sure Linda only suggested it as a joke anyway. 

“Got it. Talk to you later.”

“Thanks, Linda.”

“Take care of yourself, Dean.”

Hanging up, Dean made his way to the living room where Jack was working on a kid friendly puzzle of the solar system. The single-minded determinedness his child possessed had Dean remaining silent, idly flipping puzzle pieces right side up to help Jack along with his task. Puzzles were a new fascination with his son and it screamed Cas all around. Dean can’t even count on his fingers and toes how many puzzles he’d seen his husband do over the course of their relationship. Secretly Dean loved that their son was turning into a mini nerd.

They worked silently for a while until Jack had triumphantly placed the last piece and declared that they should work on the dinosaur puzzle next. Lame-Dad Dean had to veto that idea in favor of naptime. And as much as Dean craved a nap as well, he had a house to spruce up. He knew he had the means to hire other people to clean for him but he always found the act of tidying up his home himself made it feel more inviting. 

Even though he had purchased this house as is, furniture and all, he tried to care for it enough to make it feel more warm. He didn’t love the house nearly as much as the one he and Cas had bought together, but it had sheltered him during the past emotional months and he couldn’t really know if it would be his home for the next few months, or perhaps the next few years. So he cleaned it and took care of it and tried to make it a place that he felt comfortable despite the circumstances.

As he finished fixing up the cushions on the couch and clearing up the clutter in the living room, he heard the front door opening.

Knowing Sam was securely at his home in California, Dean wagered the visitor was only one other person.

“Char?”

“It’s me,” Charlie called out with a giddy lightness to her voice. “I found someone.”

By the way she was brandishing her work phone, Dean figured she hadn’t meant that she’d met someone in a romantic sense but in the ‘Bela was let go and we needed someone to replace her stat since you were in an accident and fans are noticing your online absence recently’ kind of way.

“Yeah?”

“Her name is Claire, she’s nineteen but she is really good at what she does,” the redhead explained. “She recreated her whole school’s web page and you should check out some of the Instagram’s she’s done.”

Not entirely knowing what he was looking at, Dean took the phone and scrolled through photos of well-lit and trendily filtered photos that didn’t technically look Dean’s tastes but he figured if this Claire was as good as Charlie said, the girl wouldn’t have a problem with molding to Dean’s preferences.

But he did have one concern.

“Nineteen?”

“I know it’s young but Dean, she talked to me about Harry Potter for forty-five minutes,” the way his friend said those words made it seem like the highest qualification in a job application over experience. And for good measure Charlie didn’t fail to brag that, “She reads fanfiction, dude. Fanfiction”

“I don’t know what that is.” He said with an obvious smirk, enjoying Charlie’s enthusiasm. They were actually growing closer since she’d confessed about Bela’s lack of work ethic. Charlie had stepped up to the plate with helping sway off the media after the accident and making sure that Dean had the time he needed to rest and recover. They’d spent a lot of time together in the past month or so and he gladly called her a friend now.

“Liar. I literally run your life, I’ve seen your search history before.”

“Fine!” He threw his hands up in surrender, enjoying their light-hearted joking. “Whatever. If you like her it’s your choice. You’re the head honcho here.”

“Really?”

It was hard to crack Charlie out of the mindset that she was still just a newbie on Dean’s team. To be fair, he’d been hesitant about her before and hadn’t quite treated her fairly for a while but he knew she’d figured out by now that he relied on her more than ever. As she’d said, she literally ran his life which meant she made all the extra stress he used to deal with in his job pretty much unnoticeable now.

“Yes, Charlie. I trust you.”

Her smile lit up her face making Dean feel good about his word choice.

“You’ll love her! I promise!” She said bursting with excitement. Suddenly she realized, “Hey, where’s Jack? I brought that Lego set we’ve been talking about.”

“Napping, should be up in a little. Do you wanna stick around for lunch?”

“Duh.”

Lunch was a pasta salad with some fresh fruit on the side, and Dean and Charlie spent most of the next thirty minutes challenging one another to who could cut the cutest shapes out of the fruit. Needless to say they wound up with a ton of hacked up fruit and nothing resembling the animals the two adults claimed the fruits were.

Jack was delighted as he saw the feast of bright colors on the counter but he was more so delighted when he saw the Legos Charlie had brought over.

Knowing he’d been relegated to merely a dad-shaped decoration, Dean went ahead and took the time to pull out his journal and began to work on his list.

Staring down at the blank lines in front of him it was actually harder than he thought it would be to write, not because he didn’t have anything he loved about Cas but because he had too much. Writing down the first point was like trying to pick his favorite song out of all the songs he’d ever heard in his life, narrowing it down to just one made him realize how many beautiful characteristics Cas really had.

His pen began moving before he’d fully decided on one single thing and before he knew it, he’d written half a page and the words kept flowing out of him. His thoughts were all over the place, not coming out in any particular order but he didn’t want to contain it. It felt good to remind himself how much he loves Cas, to look at all the reasons he’d wanted to spend his life with that man in the first place.

He’d fallen in love hard and fast when he’d met Cas but it wasn’t just because of lust. The days and nights they’d spent together working on the movie, getting to know one another, had shown Dean how passionate, understanding, and intelligent Cas was. The years after, when they were finally able to explore their feelings for one another, Dean learned how giving, excitable, nurturing, and compassionate the man he had fallen for, completely, was.

Writing these things down felt like writing a song. The words flowed out of him in a conglomerated order, needing to be down on the paper but ready to be rearranged into something perfect. 

Then he remembered, what if Cas wasn’t writing this much?

He sighed heavily and put down his pen in order to wring his fingers through his hair. He was only vaguely aware that his friend had walked up behind him at the table and plopped down to his right, peering over his shoulder like a nosy little sister.

“What’ve you been working on?” Charlie asked as Dean flipped the journal over. 

“An assignment from Pamela.”

“Oh?” There was intrigue in Charlie’s voice.

She’d been pleasantly supportive in his journey with Pamela. Practically living in Dean’s back pocket, he owed it to her to be honest about his situation with Cas and the reasons he was driving out to California, even on weeks he might not have Jack, to see a therapist. Charlie had been encouraging too, relating to him about her experiences with therapy, and making it less awkward to open up to her when he just wanted to _talk_ to someone about it who didn’t give him the pitying glances (like his mother) or the ‘I’m-so-proud-of-you’ stare (like his brother). 

“She wants us to write down things we love about each other,” he explained.

Charlie’s face nearly melted of her face as stared up at Dean with bright eyes and said, “Aww.”

“No, not aw,” Dean huffed, hanging his head. 

“Why not?’

“Because I don’t know what he’s going to write.” He tore at his hair again, feeling distressed. “What if he only writes a few things? I already have like twenty things listed.”

_What if he doesn’t love me as much as I love him? What if he doesn’t love me at all?_

Every day he didn’t know the answer, made the pit in his stomach grow. He had little to go on now.

Cas showed up to all of their sessions, but he had to since a judge wouldn’t agree to a divorce if they didn’t spend a year in therapy. Cas was physically attracted to him enough to seek Dean out for sex, but he’d done it out of convenience and hardly touched Dean in any way that could been seen as affectionate. Cas had been worried about him when he’d been in the accident, but that could have been because if Dean would have been gravely injured Cas would’ve been a single dad, who’d have to tell their son the bad news, and that would have been daunting to anyone.

“Isn’t he a writer?” Charlie asked, pulling Dean out of his spiraling thoughts.

“Yeah, so?”

She looked at Dean like she understood what was brewing in his negative mind. Maybe she did.

“So, I doubt a writer could write just a few things about the person they love,” she explained.

Dean huffed an unbelievable laugh. 

“Loved,” he corrected.

“Love,” Charlie challenged.

He was starting to hate how everyone around him kept saying Cas still loved him. Sam, his mom, Jo, Charlie… all of them seemed to think Cas’s love hadn’t gone anywhere while Dean felt like he was begging for any scraps Cas would give. How could they continue to try and pump Dean full of hope when they weren’t going through what he was? They didn’t see the complete distain in Cas’s look when they argued in front of Pamela. They didn’t see the way Cas would completely turn his back on Dean when Dean couldn’t get his thoughts out at one of their sessions.

They didn’t see the chasm that had grown between then, making a simple conversation outside of talking about their son, seem impossible.

They didn’t see that Cas had already slipped through Dean’s fingers.

“We’ll see,” Dean shrugged. He frowned again. “I just don’t want to look like an idiot when I have all this stuff written down and he just has a little.”

“Then start small,” Charlie suggested. “Write the simple things first so when you’re reading them you can gauge what he’s saying and then choose whether or not you want to share the big stuff.”

He looked down at his journal and thought of all the heartfelt words he’d already added and the ones still locked in his heart. The thought of hearing Cas only say baseline things made his shoulders slump, but he knew it was a possibility. If he followed Charlie’s plan then maybe he wouldn’t get his heart broken as much.

“That might work,” he agreed.

He put aside the list after that, and chose to spend the next hour with Jack before he had to get ready and head out for his show. 

Before he knew it his babysitter Alex had gotten to the house and Dean was kneeling down to Jack on the couch giving him a serious dad-face.

“Be good for Alex. She told me you’ve been grumpy with her when she asks you to get in your jammies and that makes her really sad. Help her out alright? When I get home I’ll read one book and then you have to go back to sleep, got it?”

Jack nodded obediently. “Okay.”

“Remember, pick up your toys, brush your teeth, put on your jammies, and help Alex read some stories.”

“I know.”

Dean hated leaving him but it was starting to get better, not easier, but better. At least he knew when he got home he’d be able to snuggle up with his son for one story before both going back to sleep. He’d have all of the following morning to spend with him and that made it worth it.

Dean was realizing now how privileged he only had to be away from his child, in the weeks he had him, a maximum of three nights while he worked—other parents with regular work schedules would have eight hours every single day, leaving only nights and weekends to spend with their kids. Parenting was hard and co-parenting was often heartbreaking but they were making it work, just like the millions of other families making it work.

“I love you,” he said, pulling Jack into a hug, smiling when his kid hugged him that much tighter.

“Love you.”

He ruffled Jack’s hair before pulling himself up and quickly saying thank you to Alex before heading out to the black car waiting for him in the driveway.

Once he was backstage he was in game mode. He warmed up his voice, sat through hair and makeup, got dressed, and was going through all pre-show checks with his crew. It was methodical so much so that he hardly had to think anymore.

People swirled around him, moving every which way, working on making his show just as good as all the other nights. He wanted to stop and chat with a few of them, catch up with the people he’d started to consider friends but time was ticking and he hated being one of those performers who took the stage nearly thirty full minutes after the schedule said he’d be on.

“Hey, Roy, the strap on the Fender is starting to rip,” Dean heard himself saying to one of the crew, remembering from the last show how he’d thought his guitar was going to fall off his shoulder.

The man nodded. “I’ll replace it,” he said before heading off to locate the instrument.

As Dean headed off to find his band for a pre-show pep talk, he found his stylist fussing over his bass player, Rufus.

“I’m telling you, I look like a teenager.”

Rufus was a great dude but quite prickly with others. It amused Dean to no end to see their new stylist, who was without a doubt one of the most patient people ever, try not to lose her cool while dealing with him.

“I promise you, you don’t,” Hannah said placatingly, trying to walk away from the conversation, knowing Rufus was always going to do his own thing. 

“I’m changing,” the older man declared, earning nothing more than an eye roll from Hannah. The stylist turned away and spotted Dean, who decided to be a little shit just for the fun of it.

“Hannah, are you sure about this shirt?”

“Yes Dean,” she groaned, playing along. “I’ve told you green is your color but if you want to switch for black, I can run and grab it.” She hiked her thumb towards the direction of the changing room, pretending to be overly eager to run around moments before showtime. 

“What if I get pit sweat?” He asked, pretending to be disgusted.

Hannah just leveled him with serious eyes and conspiringly said, “Then we’ll sell it on eBay.”

“You’re a genius,” he whispered back making her laugh. She bumped him with her shoulder as she walked by.

“Put on another layer of deodorant, you’ll be fine.”

He walked away with a smile on his face and found his group, ready to huddle around one another for their ritual spiel, and sometimes prayer.

Then it was show time.

Dean tuned out the crew as he got in the moment, shaking out all the pre-show jitters that never seemed to settle even after dozens of shows.

The cue of his band’s music narrowed his focus to how he was standing, forcing him to readjust his grip on the mic before his first lines came on.

Then he sang.

It was quite honestly one of his best performances in a while. The energy in the room made him want to connect with the audience that much more, share a few more stories here and there, and sing his heart out.

He was soaring the whole night. Even as he got home and pressed a kiss to Jack’s hairline and felt his kid squirm awake instead of sleeping through it, he felt better than he had in a long time.

Magic seemed to be swirling through the room as he tucked Jack against his side and began reading the story Jack had set next to the bed (his new habit to make sure Dean didn’t forget story time).

If Dean could, he wanted to remember this moment forever. Him and his son huddled close together in Jack’s ‘big boy’ bed, with the warm light of the rocket ship lamp lighting the room just enough that Dean could read the words of their story with a soft voice, doing his best to lull his son back to sleep.

“_The warmth of Chester’s kiss filled her heart with special words. “Chester loves you,” it sang. “Chester loves you.” I love you.”_

“Good story,” Jack sighed next to him, saying the words Cas always ended a book with. That little habit made Dean’s heart skip. He missed hearing the richness of Cas’s voice as he read to their kid, but it filled him with happiness to know that Jack still got that from both of them. They really were doing right by their son. It was something to be proud of. 

“It is a good story, isn’t it?”

“Yeah because Chester loves his mommy and I love my daddy and my papa.”

They really were doing something right.

This boy was everything Dean had ever dreamed of when he thought of starting a family. Silly, curious, smart, and the most caring person Dean had ever seen at such a young age.

“You’re so sweet. We love you too, so much,” Dean whispered, pride blooming in his chest.

Just as he was about to slip out of the bed to tuck Jack in, his son asked, “Do you love Papa?”

He was glad that Jack was still young enough to not understand that the audible gulp and the shift in Dean’s facial expression meant that Dean was panicking a little, needing to answer this question. Because Dean knew his child, he knew that the cute little face before him had zero ability at not relaying every single thing another person said to him and if Dean answered his question honestly, it would inevitably get back to Cas.

“Why’re you asking?” He asked in lieu of answering, hoping he could steer the kid away from this train of thought.

Only, his son decided to sucker punch Dean with a nonchalant, “‘Cause Papa says he loves you.”

As his heart did somersaults in his chest Dean tried to rationalize Jack’s words because as surely as Jack was to repeat what others said, he didn’t ever relay the context of it or if the other person had said it sarcastically or not, as four-year-olds don’t.

Though Dean ached to believe that Cas had uttered that confession with complete honesty, it was more likely that he responded with what his son wanted to hear. If the situations were reversed, Dean is sure he’d have told Jack that he loved Cas, even if he truly didn’t, because it would be too confusing for their son to try and figure out why his dads didn’t love each other.

That was all this was, probably. Jack cornering Cas into confessing that he loved Dean just because he was too curious for his own good.

All Dean could say was, “Oh.”

“You love him?”

That face, filled with so much curiosity and happiness, was probably exactly what Cas had looked down at and decided not to crush with his truth. Only Dean didn’t have to lie to keep Jack’s smile lit.

“Yep. I do,” he said quickly, attempting to mask the strain the words put on his features as he tried not to feel like a pathetic excuse for a human. He shook the thoughts away as he slid out of the bed and knelt by Jack’s bedside. “It’s bedtime now though. You promised.”

“Okay,” Jack conceded, shuffling down until his head was centered on his pillow. 

He looked like a little angel, there, resting on his pillow with the light of the lamp still glowing softly next to him. Dean’s little baby was growing up way too fast for his heart to handle but watching him grow was the most amazing part of Dean’s life. Jack was his pride and joy and as long as he lived he wanted to make sure that smile and those bright hazel eyes always stayed so vibrant.

“I love you so much,” Dean whispered into his hair as he bent down to kiss Jack goodnight. 

“Love you.”

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

His life wasn’t what he’d hoped it would be, not by a long shot, but having those moments with his son, having good days like the one he’d just had—it made him feel like even if he did lose Cas, no matter how awful it would feel, he’d get through it. Right now he couldn’t imagine himself ever loving again, ever wanting to open his heart to someone else because he’d already given all of it away, but he could see himself devoting all his love and energy into being a dad Jack could rely on and be proud of.

He wasn’t giving up on Cas, not by a long shot, but if he had to let him go, Dean knew he probably wouldn’t die of a broken heart like he’d first thought.

* * *

* * *

A storm had hit unexpectedly and they could hear the pitter-pattering of the rain against the window pane. Though the room was dimmer than usual from the storm clouds, the sun managed to peek just enough behind the clouds to send pure light into the room. Dean had always liked this type of rain, where the sky wasn’t completely darkened but rain still fell heavily. There was a refreshing quality to it when the earth was always so parched in the desert, like the sun was finally gifting the ground with it’s much needed treat.

He felt lighter than he had in a long time, sitting there on the couch.

Even as he fiddled with the journal in his hands, he didn’t feel awkward or uncomfortable with Cas three feet away from him, as he had when they’d first began this process.

“How have you both been?” Pamela asked politely, easing them into the conversation about to happen. Dean appreciated her all the more for it, as comfortable as he was feeling he was admittedly still very nervous to read what he’d written down.

Surprising everyone in the room, Dean answered her question first.

“It’s been a really good few weeks, actually.”

“Can you share with us some positives from them?” Pamela asked.

“I don’t know, it’s a bunch of things,” he started, looking up at the art on the wall to gather his thoughts. “I feel like me and Jack have gotten into more of a routine when he comes over to my house and he’s not even falling asleep on the drive home anymore. And my agent just found a new social media coordinator for me who is actually really awesome for being so young. Oh and I had a really good show last week, full house, and they were so energetic. It’s just been really good.”

“I’m glad to hear that, Dean,” Pamela said with an encouraging smile. Dean felt his cheeks pull into a grin in return. “How about you, Castiel? How have your weeks been?” She asked, turning to the other man.

Dean’s head turned to the other side of the couch where Cas was sitting. Though his face was calm and his lips were upturned in a small smile, Dean knew by the tension in his shoulders and the way Cas picked at the seam of his pants that something was making his husband nervous.

“It’s been productive,” he supplied, looking like he was trying to convince himself of his words. Before Dean or Pamela could cut in and ask him what was wrong, Cas huffed a quick breath and said, “I’m just anxious because I sent the manuscript of the novel I’ve been working on to my editor.”

“Leviathan?” Dean quickly asked, feeling pride wash over him. Castiel had been working so hard to get out the fourth book in his saga and Dean hoped the editors would love it, for Cas’s sake. He knew how nervous his husband got allowing others to look at his work.

Cas’s smile dimmed for a second before he addressed Dean directly. “Uh, no. Not that one. I’ve—I’ve been working on a new one in the past few months. A post-apocalyptic one, with zombies and stuff.”

“Zombies?” Dean asked excitedly. “Our kid is going to love that.” His smile must’ve been bright because it made Cas smile and laugh in agreement.

“Maybe when he’s older though, there are some things in there I don’t need a four-year-old reading.”

“Good for you though. I’m proud of you,” Dean offered. Cas was always so nervous about new stories but for as long as Dean had known him, he’d never known the other man to write anything less than awesome.

“Thank you,” Cas said softly, looking less unsure of himself now.

“Are you gentlemen ready for our exercise today?” Pamela cut in, forcing Dean’s nerves to come back at full force.

“Yup,” he answered tightly, attempting to make his smile look natural. Thankfully Cas looked just as nervous.

“Rip the bandage off, as they say,” the blue-eyed man added hoarsely. 

Pamela’s kind eyes did little to ease the tension. She seemed to notice that both of them were worried about what they were about to do so she jumped right in to her instructions. 

“Alright, what I want to happen is for each of you to share one thing at a time and alternate between them. I want you to maintain eye contact during it and explain why you chose each thing to each other. It might feel a little uncomfortable at first but after a few it should be easy. I may stop you at some points to ask a few questions. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” the two men answered together.

“Whoever’d like to go first.”

They both blinked at each other for a moment, neither one of them jumping at the chance to be the first to share. Cas seemed to understand that Dean was practically frozen in place and nodded his head in understanding. He looked down at the black notebook on his lap and flipped to the correct page.

“The first thing I wrote down was that I love that you always got my jokes.” He didn’t go on to explain, despite what Pamela had instructed, so Dean took a deep breath and shared his.

“I wrote down that I love your laugh because it always makes me smile.” 

Cas’s smile was tight as they maintained wobbly eye contact. He seemed to be just as off kilter as Dean felt which actually kind of helped Dean’s nerves. 

“You’re very handy,” Cas added, “It was impressive to see the things you could repair or create whenever you needed or wanted to.”

Dean’s mind instantly conjured up the look on Cas’s face when Dean had revealed the crib he’d built for Jack. He’d hidden in their garage for days, not allowing Cas the chance to even step within five feet of the space. It was something he’d wanted to do the minute their birth mother had picked them and he’d poured his blood, sweat, and tears into that crib. The way Cas’s arms had engulfed him after seeing it--the way he whispered into Dean’s neck that he’d be a wonderful father--it had been the first spark inside Dean that made him start to feel like a dad, even without meeting their baby yet. 

The crib wasn’t the only thing he’d made Cas, not by a long shot. Their home had been filled with things Cas would suggest Dean make instead of them purchasing them, and it felt like something special Dean could do for his husband. It felt nice to be reminded that Cas really did appreciate it, even though he’d always said he did. 

He looked at his next line on his list, hoping to share something that would make Cas feel just as warm inside.

“You love to learn new things. You’re always reading and asking questions and you know so much about things around the world and other cultures. I’ve always loved hearing about the things you’re interested in. You amaze me with how smart you are.”

Cas smiled in appreciation before sharing his next one.

“You know every word to every Led Zeppelin song. Or any classic rock song, really. It’s always a blast to go on a road trip with you.”

“You will try literally any food at least once even if you hate it,” Dean read. The two of them laughed together, clearly both thinking back to a few times where they’d tried less than ideal foods because Cas had been curious. Needless to say, Dean never wanted to eat what he thinks was monkey brain ever again.

For Cas’s turn the other man looked down at his notebook for a few moments before smiling nervously up at Dean. 

“Uhm… you... you always make sure that I’m warm.”

“I wrote—“

“I’m not finished.” Cas cut Dean off. He was obviously struggling to spit the words out but Dean waited patiently to hear his explanation.

“It’s something I’m certain you don’t even realize you do... You’ll wake up in the middle of the night sometimes for whatever reason and every time before you go back to sleep, you’ll make sure I’m tucked in. And you’ll wrap the blankets around me when we’re on the couch and tuck them under my feet. And when it’s cold out and I’m wearing a scarf, every time you wrap it around me one more time. And it melts me to have someone care for my well-being so thoroughly that you won’t let any inch of me go cold.”

The air changed between them as Dean realized, through a series of memories, just how often he had used to do that. It’d been instinct almost to want to ensure Cas’s comfort whenever he could and the fact that Cas remembered something that simple, it choked him up.

“I didn’t know I even did that,” he responded, starting to feel the beginnings of emotions stirring up.

Something in Cas’s gaze had Dean skipping a few of his simpler items and moving to one he’d added that always made him smile.

“I—I wrote down that I love when you have coffee ready every morning. It’d always be sitting there perfectly made and warm every time I woke up. And I loved it especially when you’d hand it to me with a sleepy kiss because you’d been up all night writing but still wanted to make sure I had my coffee. And—whoa.” Dean cut off, looking at his husband with worry. “Why are you crying?”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Cas waved off, graciously accepting the tissue Pamela handed him. “I just—it took me—” He laughed despite the tears, and shook the fog from his head. “It just took me almost a month to realize why I’d have so much leftover coffee in the pot and I—I hadn’t realized that I kept making enough for you too. And it was such a habit and...” His lip began to quiver a little but he took a few steady breaths. “I’m glad it made you happy.”

Dean already wanted to surge forward and pull Cas into a crushing hug but he wasn’t sure if that’d be acceptable yet. Emotion was clawing up his throat and he knew it’d only be a matter of time before he couldn’t hold it back.

Castiel seemed to have gathered himself enough to be able to move on with his list.

“My next one is how reliable you are,” despite the few tears in his eyes, Cas managed to look proud as he maintained eye contact with Dean. “It even became a joke with some of our friends. They’d complain about something not being done and everyone would just say ‘you should’ve asked Dean,’ because you’re that guy. You drop anything for anyone when they’re in need and you follow through. You say you’ll do something and you do. It always made me so proud, to have a man like that by my side.”

“I love how caring you are,” Dean started, feeling tears prickling the corners of his eyes. “You truly want to make the world a better place and you give so much of your heart to every cause you support. And your passion for this just spills over onto everyone else and it encourages people to think about the world and others in it who are less fortunate than we are. But what I love most is how you’re already showing our son what type of human he should be, you’re leading him through example and he’s going to grow up being the most compassionate human because of all you do.”

Neither of them had dry eyes at this point making Dean feel less like a baby when he grabbed a wad of tissues out of Pamela’s hand.

Not letting up on the emotional stuff, Castiel dove right in, cracking Dean’s heart wide open with his words.

“You’re an amazing father,” he stated, fighting off his own wave of emotion. “This—this would all be so much easier to go through if you weren’t but you _amaze me_ with him. The way you listen to everything he says and how you encourage him to try anything he’s interested in. You want him to be unapologetically himself and you make him smile more than anyone in this entire universe and god, I could watch you with him for hours… I _miss_ watching you with him and seeing him fall asleep on you and seeing this _deep,_ overwhelming love just overcome you when you hold him like that.”

Dean could barely see through his tears but he held Cas’s gaze as the other man said, “You are the best father to our son.”

“Fuck…” Dean sobbed, burying his face in his hands for a moment as he absorbed some of the words he’d been dying to hear for so long. “Thank you… thank you,” he cried.

He took a breathing, only for a moment, knowing the next thing on his list wasn’t going to allow him to let up on his tears. 

“Mine—mine is… mine is probably something that drove you crazy but I loved it—I love it,” he corrected. He stared down at the tearstained paper in his lap and steeled himself for his next words. “I wrote that you always let me interrupt you when you’re doing something. No matter what, you let me crawl up to you and lay my head on your chest or shoulder; bad day, good day, whenever… and I know it annoyed you but I just… I just love being able to feel you holding me when I need you. I’m sorry for being annoying about it though, like when you were writing and on a roll—“

“No.”

He looked up to see devastation on Cas’s face.

“What?” Dean asked, worried him that he’d gone too far with his confession.

“Please don’t apologize for that,” Cas asked, shaking his head as tears rolled down his cheeks. 

“It bugged you, though,” Dean argued but Cas just kept shaking his head. 

“It didn’t. Oh, it really didn’t. God,” Dean watched Cas’s hand settled on his chest, a method Dean had seen him do before when he got too overwhelmed. “Dean, that—that was my _favorite_ thing. I—I always felt so _wanted_ when you’d do that, like you only felt comforted by my arms, by _my_ touch and… I never wanted it to end. You’re just… you’re funny about those things. If I said how much it meant to me, I was scared you wouldn’t do it, that you’d think it was too cheesy but… I knew you were petulant enough to keep doing it if I pretended to be put out. And you were. So, don’t apologize for that, ever. Not that.”

They both were a wreck now, snot-nosed with red-rimmed eyes, but just saying these things aloud lifted a weight Dean hadn’t realized had been bogging them down. It’d been months, maybe years, since they’d shared the things they loved about each other this openly.

It was Cas’s turn now and Dean wasn’t fully prepared but he listened with rapt attention anyway.

“My last one is… it’s that look you get when you’ve found something you love. When you hear a new song or you find the right words to one you’re writing. Or when you watch Star Wars or see Jack playing at the park. You get it when you talk to Sam about his work and when you share recipes with your mom. And you’d look at me that way, all the time, even when we were fighting because you love with your whole being. It’s all the way to your core and it’s such a beautiful gift that you have.”

Dean could’ve listed a dozen more things he loves about Cas but he knew they needed to wrap it up or they’d become giant puddles of tears. So, he looked to the last thing he’d written on his list and felt one last wave of emotion roll over him.

“My last one isn’t… it’s not that detailed. I just… I love you because…” He made sure Cas’s beautiful blue eyes were looking right back at him. “…because you’re my best friend, in the whole world. I always want you by my side and that’s never changed. It never will change.”

Cas’s face crumbled and he looked away from Dean, turning his head completely so Dean couldn’t see him breaking down.

He let Cas cry for a moment before he found bravery somewhere deep down to ask for the one thing he really wanted at the moment.

“Cas?” He asked gently. He waited for his husband to swipe the tears from his face before he asked, “Can I hug you?”

He’d prepared himself to see Cas say no but when the other man nodded his head, Dean felt like he was on top of the world. He didn’t care that Pamela was in the room, watching every move he made, all he could think about was how much he needed to feel Cas in his arms. The moment they each slid across the couch enough to outstretch their arms to one another, Dean allowed himself to melt into the hug. He allowed himself to take every ounce of that moment and just breathe Castiel in, not knowing the next time he’d get to touch him like this. When their arms loosened, hesitantly, Dean knew it showed on his face just how much he didn’t want to let go, even if he had to.


	11. Chapter 11

A shift happened in the weeks that followed their professions of love. 

Conversation came more easily, smiles were shared each time they’d see each other, and they messaged each other just a little bit more than just talking about Jack. It wasn’t perfect but it was something. 

Even their meetings with Pamela were different now. Where before they’d spent all their energy on simple communication without flipping out on each other, their sessions with Pamela were now focused on reconnecting.

She changed the structured they’d grown used to and though it was uncomfortable at times, Dean could already see a difference in the way he and Cas talked with one another. Instead of Pamela leading their conversations, prying them to open up about their thoughts and feelings, prompting them to talk about their weeks, now she challenged them to turn to each other, unprompted, and share. She’d ask them to maintain eye contact, give each other a compliment, and hold hands. All of it felt awkward at first, the months they’d been out of practice with these kinds of things making them each feel like teenagers again, but it got easier with time. He had to admit that some of the things she asked them to do were whacky but with Cas’s words of love still swirling through his mind, Dean was willing to do anything to keep that man in his life. 

He wasn’t sure where they were right now, or where Cas’s mind was with the divorce, but Dean did know that each passing week as he held Cas’s hand or stared into his favorite set of blue eyes for an entire three minutes, he felt his love for the other man unwavering.

Even just a few weeks ago as they sat on that couch talking, Dean still managed to fall a little more in love with Cas. 

He’d had Cas’s hand in his and he was idly running his thumb across his husband’s knuckles, telling him about his week, easily, like they used to share their days with one another. 

“I made this Cajun pasta that Benny told me to try. It was _amazing._ He told me to cook the pasta in the sauce and he had me use chicken thighs instead of breasts and I’m telling you, it was the greatest thing I’ve ever tasted.”

Cas’s laugh rang through the room and a burst of pride overwhelmed Dean’s heart. He did that. He made that laugh happen. He missed stealing those chances any time he could, both Cas and Jack’s laughs were the most beautiful sounds in the universe. 

“You say _every_ new thing you try is the best thing you’ve ever tasted,” Cas teased. His cheeks grew hot as Cas’s eyes challenged him playfully. 

“I do not,” Dean replied bashfully. He loved that Cas felt comfortable enough to jest with him again. 

“You do too,” Cas accused. “Remember when we had that Paella in Spain during your Europe tour?”

“Okay, _that_ was the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

“Or that jambalaya we had in New Orleans?”

Memories of some of the happiest moments in his life flashed through his mind. Dean honestly couldn’t remember a trip that didn’t involve Cas, food, and a lot of laughter. 

“Okay, no _that_ was the best thing,” he said with a doofy grin. 

“What about the pie from that diner in Tennessee?”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” Dean laughed heartily, raising his free hand in surrender. 

Cas looked pleased with himself, giving Dean his favorite smile. 

“Just admit it, you love all food.”

“I do! But so do you.” Dean stuck his tongue out like a little kid for a second and laughed when Cas returned the gesture. 

_This_ was what he wanted for them. This felt right. 

“I love the food you make,” Cas said softly. He gripped Dean’s hand in his a little tighter. “I still haven’t found a burger quite as good.”

Dean wanted to kiss Cas so badly right then. He wanted to lean in and thread his fingers through Cas’s locks, the ones on the sides that always grew out faster than the rest. He wanted to breathe in Cas’s kind words and taste his smile. He wanted to be Dean and Cas again, but he knew they weren’t there yet. 

He smiled instead and chose to keep Cas’s smile on his face as long as he could. 

“I love that you’re always so encouraging with me trying new things like cooking or that one time I thought I wanted to get into rock climbing.”

Cas’s eyes lit up like he remembered Dean’s many failed attempts at getting to the top of the beginner’s wall. He’d been so supportive though, reminding Dean to not look down and telling him that he wouldn’t let him fall. It had always made Dean feel like he was on top of the world, hearing Cas tell him that he’d support him. It was a comfort he hadn’t realized he’d taken for granted until they’d started marriage counseling. 

He didn’t let those thoughts get him down though, not this time. He knew it was part of the process and the processes sometimes sucked. It wasn’t an awesome feeling to acknowledge one’s own shortcomings but now that he’d been at it for a while, he was starting to see why people always said therapy was worth it. 

Cas’s eyes had dipped to the couch for a second before he’d looked back up at Dean and offered a compliment in return. 

“I love how excited you get about the new things you experience. Especially when it’s a new movie you’ve just watched but most especially when it’s food because then I get to eat it.”

Dean, right then, had wanted to let Cas know how much he wanted to experience more firsts together still--for as long as they lived, really, but Pamela cut in, reminding the two men of the other person in the room.

“I’m proud of the two of you taking the initiative to give your compliments genuinely.”

It felt good to hear a compliment from her, like a teacher praising a student for a job well done. Dean’s cheeks heated up and he knew he probably looked crimson but before he could be embarrassed by feeling so excited over Pamela’s words, he caught Cas looking the same. 

From there, Pamela had continued urging them to open up to each other, to place themselves in vulnerable situations. She’d asked them to hug for three minutes, bring up petty fights they’d once had, create a small piece of artwork to represent their relationship, and so much more. 

It had sucked to open up like that but it had felt good too. To talk openly with Cas again, it almost felt like how they used to be when their relationship was still new. 

Realizing how much had gone by the wayside the further their marriage had progressed was definitely pretty disappointing for Dean. Wasn’t marriage supposed to make those things like communication and trust stronger? Wasn’t being married to the right person supposed to come naturally? 

He’d always thought that his parents, or anyone else who had ever been divorced, had just not been right for each other. He’d so genuinely believed that being madly in love with Cas was going to be enough to make them last a lifetime because don’t couples who are made for each other just work out regardless? 

He’s not sure when he finally accepted how hard marriage was, and how much effort both spouses have to put in to make it work, but he did know he owed it to Pamela for being the person to set him straight. 

As the weeks inched closer and closer to the year mark, Dean tried to remind himself that even though it was still tough, it meant that they were getting stronger. He tried to quell his anxieties that told him that since he and Cas were still not one hundred percent back to where they were that they’d never make it out of this. 

But for the first time in a long time he had faith that things could work out. 

They were back in that room, on that same leather couch, with the same artwork on the walls and smiles now on their faces as they communicated with one another when Pamela decided to throw a wrench into the mood. 

“I want us to start discussing the hard stuff.”

Dean’s eyes widened a fraction as he opened his mouth to joke but Pamela cut him off, a serious look in her eyes.

“Yes, even harder than what we’ve already been doing,” she assured. “Today we are going to focus on our fears and doubts in your relationship.”

Immediately his shoulders tightened up as a dark cloud hovered above the room. The bright smiles both he and Cas had just been sharing dimmed until they were stony. 

He stared at Pamela, willing her to explain why she wanted to tear them down when they were feeling so bright. 

She seemed to expect this. She leaned forward so her elbows rested on her knees and her chin propped on her knuckles, and for what it’s worth, she did seem sympathetic to their anxieties but she wasn’t about to let them get out of this. 

“I know this will stir up a lot of emotions, I know it will be uncomfortable, but this is the final hurdle we need to get through with one another. Each of you holds your fears so closely to your heart and you’re both scared of letting them out but in order to move forward as a couple you both need to face those doubts head on.”

Dean’s heart rate skyrocketed. He wasn’t ready for this. He wanted to go back to the sessions a few weeks ago when they were laughing about how silly Dean had been for getting upset over Cas forgetting to put their sheets in the dryer. He wanted to go back to last week, that very same session that Pamela had challenged them to go on one date together between then and now. 

A date that they had just gone on--a date that left Dean feeling like King of the World afterwards.

Despite knowing Pamela was going to bleed them dry together in a matter of moments, Dean held onto every moment from his and Cas’s night together. 

He’d been a nervous wreck the entire week leading up to it. Even with Jack to distract him for the majority of the time, Dean had underestimated just how flustered he’d be knowing that when he dropped their son off he would get to take Cas on their first date together in over a year.

He’d agonized over the details for days, hoping to make it special enough that Castiel would feel loved but not overly special that it felt ingenuine.

He knew he wanted to make it a surprise for Cas, so he’d dropped Jack off with his mom instead of driving straight to their home. Mary had been so excited for him that Dean, for a second, thought she was about to pull out her camera and take photos of him by the door. 

He’d still been nervous but nothing compared to how he’d felt when he pulled into the driveway and put the truck in park. Every inch of his body had trembled and it took every ounce of willpower to force himself up the steps of his former home and raise his hand to knock on the door. 

The bouquet of daffodils behind his back threatened to slip out of his sweaty palms as he waited for Cas to finally open the door. 

To say Cas had been confused, when he’d spotted Dean standing at his doorway without their son, would be an understatement, but Dean relished in the way that look of confusion melted into a smile as Dean pulled the flowers from behind his back and asked his husband if he could take him on a date. 

He’d been damn near miraculous to hear Cas say yes. Dean’s pretty sure he pulled a muscle in his cheek smiling so flipping hard. 

It didn’t bother Dean for a moment that he sat waiting in their front sitting room as Cas took some time to get ready. In fact, the anticipation of waiting to see Cas all dressed up for the _date_ Dean was about to take him on was enough to make Dean practically giggle with excitement. 

He didn’t think Cas would mind if he ventured further into their home but Dean also didn’t want to assume anything and ruin the night, so he stayed in the front room and pulled out some photo albums as he waited--and man, was the wait worth it. 

When Cas came back into the room, Dean had been rendered completely breathless. He’d never forgotten how sexy Cas was but something about his man in black slacks and a black button up and vest, with that effortlessly tousled hair and the smell of his deep cologne, had Dean confessing just how beautiful he thought Cas was. The blush that got him in return was nothing short of a miracle.

As much as Dean had wanted to share more time with Cas in the home he missed so much, he wasn’t about to miss out on his chance to woo his husband. Instead he’d gestured for Cas to follow him to the truck, opened the passenger door for his husband with a dramatic flare, and drove them a short while to the dock of the dinner cruise he’d booked for them. 

Cas had been remarkably silent about his thoughts until they’d been escorted to their private table.

It’d all been exactly as he’d hoped it would be. They’d been sat away from other guests, near a large window, with only a tealight candle in between them. 

Dean’s mind willed Cas to like it, to not think that he’d overdone it. He wanted so badly to impress his husband but he didn’t want Cas thinking that Dean was just putting on a show. It was those anxieties that had him damn near crumbling with relief when Cas had smiled and said, “This is beautiful, Dean.” 

“It’s nothing,” Dean had replied, trying to sound nonchalant but he was entirely too thrilled that Cas seemed impressed.

The dinner hadn’t been too overly fancy, which Dean was thankful for, a simple chicken and steak meal for the both of them that they each ate with fervor but it was the conversation that had been the greatest treat of the night. For the first time in months, Dean got to talk to Castiel without a middleman and he couldn’t seem to stop asking questions. For something he’d been terrified about for the entire week he’d been planning the date, there didn’t seem to be any lull in their conversation.

Dean learned about Cas’s new book and his editors notes on it; he learned about a show Cas had been approached to work on the pilot episode script; he learned about the new startups Cas’s nonprofit was working on and where he hoped they would go, and Dean learned that he’d missed hearing the sound of Cas’s voice more than he could put into words.

It’d been mesmerizing to hear the things coming out of his mouth, the excitement and passion Cas had for his job, that Dean often forgot to answer Cas’s own questions he posed in return and by the end of dinner Dean wasn’t certain he’d strung a coherent thought together.

Not wanting the night to end, Dean had asked Cas to go to an ice cream parlor where there was a possibility of getting recognized but not enough of one that they’d get mobbed--thankfully Cas agreed. They’d had to take a few pictures with the staff who’d noticed them but didn’t mind as they were able to take their ice cream back to the truck and eat it without any interruptions to the rest of their date.

Inevitably, they’d talked about Jack, though Pamela had strongly encouraged them not to, but when they had a kid that amazing, it was impossible not to brag about him a little. They joked about how silly he looked while running on his little legs, how his newfound disdain for carrots was just him being a little booger, and they got a little too emotional talking about the fact that he was going to start kindergarten in a few months.

And when the date finally had to come to an end, Dean walked Cas to the door with heavy feet, not wanting it to be over for a moment. He knew there wasn’t a chance Cas was going to invite him inside, even if he wanted to, mostly because Pamela had said it was against date rules. Further than that though, they knew after last time they shouldn’t open that part of their relationship until they knew what they were going to do with their marriage.

So, as Cas unlocked the door Dean had weighed the pros and cons of asking for a kiss, not knowing if this could be his last chance. It’d taken Cas longer than usual to get the door unlocked, leaving Dean to decide that he’d take Cas’s lead on this one, not wanting to rush anything especially if Cas didn’t want it.

“I had a nice time tonight, a really nice time,” Cas had said almost shyly.

“Me too,” Dean replied back, unsure what more he could say without pouring his heart out. “I wouldn’t mind doing it again, sometime soon, maybe?”

He knew it was a long shot but it was nice to not see Cas’s face turn disgusted, instead the other man had smiled a little and said, “I think I’d like that.”

“Good.” 

Dean had struggling with himself, he couldn’t tell if Cas wanted to kiss him or not and he seriously felt like he was a teenager after his very first date, awkward and frazzled. “I should... I should let you get back inside. My mom said she’d drop Jack off in the morning.”

“Okay.” Cas seemed just as unsure what to do but he didn’t seem like he was going to be the one to ask for a kiss. Accepting that he wasn’t going to end the date that way, Dean rifled up enough courage to step forward and press a chaste kiss to his husband’s cheek before pulling away quickly.

“Thanks for going with me tonight. I’ll see you,” he said, taking a hesitant step backwards. “Night, Cas.”

Dean wasn’t certain if he’d imagined Cas taking a step in his direction, but he wanted to believe Cas didn’t want the date to end either.

“Good night, Dean,” the other man had replied in a near whisper, and Dean vowed right then and there to not let this be their last date.

It was one of the best dates he thinks he and Cas had ever been on and it was the memory of it that kept him from completely panicking as the two of them sat facing Pamela. She still had a serious expression on her face and Dean knew she didn’t take opening up the darkest parts of their relationship lightly. 

At this point, he trusted Pamela with doing right by them. He knew she hadn’t steered them wrong in the past and every single thing she’d asked of them was with the goal to make them communicate better and have a healthier relationship. He knew she was on their side but it didn’t make the fear go away--the fear that opening this very door would be the final nail in the coffin of their marriage. 

He allowed himself to close his eyes and breath. He had to keep holding onto his faith that this wouldn’t blow up in his face. They hadn’t come this far to only come this far. Dean wanted another date with Cas, he wanted another chance at a happy marriage with Cas, he wanted another promise of a bright future, and if this was how he was going to get it all, he’d do anything.

When he opened his eyes Pamela was looking back at him with a look of understanding. She knew how terrified he was of losing everything. 

She turned away to look to Castiel as well before she started speaking again. 

“Each of you have shared your doubts and fears with me in our private sessions and I am willing to voice them for you if you feel it’s too difficult to share on your own, but I encourage you to use your communication skills and voice them yourself, to practice what you should do later in your relationship.”

It was her use of the phrase _’later in your relationship,’_ that encouraged Dean to be brave. Dean didn’t want Pamela to have to be the one to start this conversation. It was one of his biggest weaknesses, talking about the things that bothered him, and if he was going to be the husband he wanted to be, he needed to be able to have these conversations with Cas.

They were the thoughts he’d hidden in parts of his journal when the loneliness overcame him. They were the thoughts he’d screamed at himself when he and Cas couldn’t see eye to eye. They were the thoughts that threatened to undo him and it was time he finally set them free. 

Taking a deep breath, he said the first thing that came to his mind. 

“I’m scared that this will all be for nothing,” he confessed, already feeling the words lift off his shoulders. “I’m scared that we’ve spent a whole year here and that I’m the only one who actually wants this to work out. I don’t mean that like you’ve given me a reason to think you’re not in this,” he turned to Cas, trying to reassure him. “It’s just that I get in my own head that your end goal is still a divorce and then I get scared that I look like an idiot putting my heart on the line here when you’re just playing along to get rid of me at the end of this.”

It looked like Cas wanted to say something back but Dean carried on, unable to stop the words that were suddenly pouring out of his mouth.

“I think it’s probably because I still can’t believe that we’re even here. I feel like the divorce really blindsided me and I’m not really over it.”

It was the first time he’d admitted that aloud, that he wasn’t over the hurt from one of the single worst days of his life.

“I knew we were having some problems,” he continued, “and we weren’t seeing eye to eye, and I know a lot of that was because I just wasn’t listening to you, but in my mind we had been solid and then being served the papers… I guess I just keep waiting for the other shoe to drop here too.”

As weighty as the words had been and as dark as they plagued his soul, they didn’t feel dirty coming out of his mouth, not like he thought they would. It felt right to finally confess it all to Cas and if he was judging it correctly, the look on Cas’s face said that he understood. 

“I think I was playing along for a while,” Cas confirmed, making Dean frown. “I wasn’t taking any of this seriously because I didn’t see the point, I didn’t think anything would change between us and I was frustrated and hurt that you’d made such a big change in our life without my input and I just didn’t want to bother trying here.”

It hurt to hear that his negative thoughts had been right, that Cas had only shown up because he was obligated to and not because he wanted their marriage to work out. 

Before the words _‘I’m sorry’_ could tumble from Dean’s lips, Cas continued speaking. 

“But I’m trying now and I have been for a while because I was wrong. It has been helping. I’d thought that you and I had just grown apart and that there was no hope for salvaging what we had but the day you told me you felt like I thought you were a bad dad, was the day I realized neither of us knew how to communicate with each other anymore.”

Dean sat there wide-eyed and didn’t know what to say or if he even should say anything. The room was quiet apart from the large clock on the wall, counting each second of silence between them. 

He didn’t want to have hope that Cas wanted them to work out. He didn’t want to believe that there was a chance he could get Cas back because if he let himself believe it, really believe it, and it didn’t work out, he’d break. 

But not believing it meant continuing on with negative thoughts. It meant potentially being too guarded to allow themselves to work this out. Either way he could get hurt and Dean didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what to say. 

It was Cas who filled the void.

“I’m scared that this is all a temporary fix and that we’ll just be back here in a few months, because how much can people change in a year?”

Dean wanted to say that he’d changed so much this past year, but had he really? He felt changed. He felt better equipped to voice his thoughts, to listen to others, to seek to understand another person’s viewpoints, but was that enough? What if he forgot some of it? What if he went back to yelling and arguing instead of having a civilized discussion? What if he really hadn’t changed even though he’d been putting in the hard work? 

“I—I hoped we’d keep coming here,” Dean admitted, feeling as sheepish as he probably looked. “Coming here doesn’t have to be just because we’re having problems, it can be so we can prevent them altogether.”

He made eye contact with Pamela, who smiled at him kindly, before he looked back at Cas. It was something he asked Pamela if they could do, assuming things worked out, because he didn’t want to believe that in one years time all their problems would be solved. He didn’t want to end up back here under the same circumstances. 

“But how?” Cas asked. “You want to keep making this drive just to come to therapy?”

“Maybe I don’t have to.” Dean said with a shrug, knowing he sounded coy.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m thinking about breaking my contract.”

He’d hardly admitted this to himself, let alone to another person, but the idea had been weighing on his mind for a while. He’d made a mistake moving out to Vegas and taking that job. He knew it, he accepted it, and now he wanted to change it. 

Cas didn’t seem to understand. “Excuse me?” 

For a second Dean thought Cas sounded upset, the opposite of what Dean expected from him. 

“I’m gonna break my contract once one year’s up,” said once more. 

“Why would you do that?” Cas’s face looked almost incredulous, like he couldn’t quite make sense of the words coming out of Dean’s mouth. But it didn’t make any sense. Wasn’t this what Cas wanted all along? For Dean to not take this job? Why wasn’t he happy? 

“You’re joking right?”

“No,” Cas looked at him so seriously in that moment, it felt like he was trying to read Dean’s soul. “I can’t believe you’re even considering this.” 

“I just can’t do this anymore,” he confessed, hating the way his voice became shaky. All the heartbreak he’d felt over the past year overwhelmed him in that moment. He didn’t even know if he could vocalize the sheer agony he’d gone through without breaking down.

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t keep pretending like I’m not dying inside, Cas. I can’t keep pretending like I don’t count down the minutes until I get to drive back home to see my son again or like I don’t lay in bed at night wishing you were there. I can’t keep pretending like singing on that stage is worth all this.”

Cas’s head shook in disbelief. 

“But you love it. It’s your dream.”

Dean scoffed. Singing, no matter how much he loved it, wasn’t worth his family. 

“So what? Just because I love it doesn’t mean it’s good for me anymore. I’m just going through the motions at this point. Why should I suffer another year like this?”

He didn’t understand how Cas couldn’t see his side of this. It didn’t make any sense to him that the very thing that made Cas leave him was now what Cas was trying to convince him to continue. 

“Dean you can’t do this. You made a commitment to do this for two years, you need to see it through. Plus, it’s financially irresponsible.”

Dean knew that, of course he did. He knew that he’d lose nearly every penny he had and would probably be out of a job for a long time, but he’d set enough money aside to see Jack through college, and that’d have to be good enough.

“I’m not worried about that,” he lied, knowing it truly was career sabotage. It’d be the stupidest thing he could do for his career but if it let him keep his family, he didn’t give a shit if he ever stepped back up on a stage or in front of a camera again. 

“Don’t do this.”

Dean couldn’t wrap his mind around Cas’s reaction. 

“Cas, doing this lost me you in the first place. Now you’re telling me to keep doing it? I thought you’d be happy!”

“I’m telling you that now that you’ve committed, I think you need to see it through. You have a little over a year left. You can last that long.”

He wanted to cry because he didn’t agree. He couldn’t last that long, not going the way they were. 

“That’s a year of doing all this back and forth. Jack is about to start school. I can’t keep him with me for a week at a time like we have been. I don’t want to only see him on weekends.”

The mere thought of being without Jack for even longer than he already was threatened to crush him. He didn’t think he could survive a year like that, no matter how strong he tried to be. His heart would shatter to pieces.

“It would only be for a short period of time,” Cas tried to reassure him, looking just as miserable as Dean felt. Dean knew that Cas could empathize with Dean’s desire to stay close to their son. Their love for that boy was unrivaled. “And you could have him for each and every break, I promise.”

Those words shattered him. He didn’t want to be the dad that only saw his kid on breaks. He didn’t want to be the dad who had to drive hundreds of miles just to have two days with his baby. He didn’t want this to be his life.

“It’s not the same,” he cried, desperately trying to get Cas to understand that Dean had to do this. 

“I know, I know, but it’s what needs to be done. You can’t give up on your career. Do this for Jack, teach him that he needs to do things even when they’re hard.”

He thought back to the song he’d sang months ago. Lyrics rushing to his mind like a tidal wave.

_So when you drive_  
_And the years go flying by_  
_I hope you smile_  
_If I ever cross your mind_  
_It was a pleasure of my life_  
_And I cherished every time_  
_And my whole world_  
_It begins and ends with you_  
_On that Highway 20 ride_

He knew he was fundamentally different now. The past year had changed him in ways he never thought he could change. He’d lost love, he’d fought for love, he’d learned what it felt like to be lonely again, he’d essentially become a single dad, and he’d never be the same person as he was a year ago. He hoped that was for the better.

He heard himself saying, in hardly a whisper, “I just want to be a good dad to him.”

Cas’s hands were suddenly engulfing Dean’s with a vice grip.

“You are an amazing father,” he told Dean, emphasizing every word. 

“But I’m not around. What’s gonna happen when he starts to realize that his daddy isn’t around as much as his friend’s dads?”

“He’ll understand. He worships you.”

He appreciated how kind Cas was being, but he just didn’t think the other man got it. Yeah maybe one year wasn’t a long time, but what if he got roped into adding another year? Then another? He wasn’t known for making sound decisions when it came to his job and who knows what producers could talk him into.

“For how long? How long until I start being a side character in his life? How long until you move on and fall in love again? How long until the new person in your life starts taking our son to school and to playdates since I can’t?”

He swiped at his tears with his stray hand. He didn’t imagine that they’d dive this far into his fears when Pamela had told them they were opening this can of worms, and he wasn’t even sure if it was helping, but he did know that it needed to be said. He’d agonized over all these thoughts for far too long, he needed to let them out.

“I’d never replace you.”

Dean wished Cas meant he’d never replace the spot Dean held in Cas’s life but he knew Cas meant he’d never replace Dean’s spot in Jacks, and for now that helped ease his aching heart.

He smiled sadly but appreciatively, “I know that. But who’s going to be more important to him in the end? The man who sees him every other weekend or some other guy who is around for all the day-to-day stuff?”

Cas was seemingly rendered speechless as he did nothing more than stare at Dean with sad, broken eyes. It made Dean feel inexplicably guilty for dumping all this on him, taking up almost all of their session time on his fears.

He just had one more thing to say.

“I just want our son to know that he comes first. I don’t care if I have to give up singing forever. I don’t care if I never touch a guitar again. I’m not losing my son because of a stupid choice I made because I thought I knew what was best for everyone. He’s all I have left.”


	12. Chapter 12

He almost didn’t get out of the truck. In fact, he almost hadn’t gotten in the truck to drive here in the first place. 

He stared out of his windshield at the half full parking lot and tried to will himself to open the door. Sunlight beamed on the cars near him, sparkling in mocking way, telling Dean that the world was still spinning on as he nearly broke apart in his truck. 

He knew that up down the corridor and through the blue office door could be the end of his happiness and Dean couldn’t find the strength to open the door and walk towards the building. 

They’d been avoiding it for too long now. Every time it came up they’d side step and make sure that their session ran just a bit too long so they wouldn’t have to discuss it but they couldn’t do that any longer. This was it. They’d hit one full year. 

Still paralyzed with fear he bowed his head and thought about his marriage. For the past year he’d had infinite time to reminisce on all the joy he’d been blessed with in his life, but nothing compared to the sheer bliss that filled his world when Cas showed up. Some memories were still so vivid and Dean knew that when his time came, and he got to where he was going, he’d play so many of them on a reel. Like the first time he’d heard the words _I love you_ tumble past Cas’s lips and Dean realized he’d never seen another person look at him that way before. Or the first time they’d made love and Dean finally knew what it felt like to feel completed by another person’s touch. The memory of their spontaneous wedding, grinning like idiots as they stood in the chapel, so in love that they couldn’t wait just a few more months for the wedding they’d been talking about having someday in the future. Buying their first little home, where Dean would sing in their shower to practice his songs and Cas would spend all hours of the night in their extra bedroom typing away on his novel. The day they got the phone call that a birth mother had selected them to bring her beautiful baby boy into their family. The first steps they got to watch their baby boy make and the big smile on his chubby cheeks when he and Cas had cheered like madmen at the accomplishment. 

If this was all the time he and Cas were meant to have with each other, Dean knew it wouldn’t ever feel like enough but at least he’d had some of the best, most beautiful years of his life. 

Dean knew in his heart those memories forever would remain the most cherished, his most prized possessions because they were the time of his life he’d had the most love, and right now, with just a few steps between him and the fate of his marriage, he prayed to anything that would listen that this would not break him. 

With all the strength he could muster he pried himself from the comfort of his vehicle and made his way towards where his husband waited. 

He tried to comfort himself with thoughts of the last few weeks, where he’d gotten to take Cas on one more date as well as eat dinner with his family, just the three of them, in their home together. He tried to remember the smiles on Cas’s face during their moments together and the feeling of Cas’s stubble under his lips as he pressed a kiss to his husband’s cheek each time they parted. 

But despite the positive thoughts, the passive look on Cas’s face as Dean opened the door to Pamela’s office was enough to squash all of Dean’s hope. 

His heart was in his throat as he sat on the leather couch for what could be the last time. 

He couldn’t bring himself to look towards Cas, knowing that if he didn’t see hope and love reflected back in them, Dean would lose himself there on the hardwood floors. Instead he looked to Pamela, practically begging her to make this all better, to fix it all so they could be happy again. 

She smiled at him as comfortingly as she could. 

As she started talking, Dean realized she didn’t even have her notepad with her, a fact that made her almost seem naked to him. Did the lack of notes mean she knew what was going to happen between them? Did she not believe they’d be back anymore and had stopped wasting her time on them? 

“Technically, we’ve reached our year mark, though I’ve kept my schedule open for the next few months at our regular time.”

She looked at Dean and smiled at him with unreadable eyes he couldn’t tell if she meant this as in she believed in them or not. Was she just trying to leave Dean with false hope? But If they were hopeless, why would she have kept those time slots open? 

“I know you may not feel ready to make this decision quite yet but I believe both of you have dedicated yourself to this process and have truly gained the ability to listen and communicate effectively. A year may not seem like a long time but trust me when I say I have seen more growth from both of you than I have from the majority of couples who walk through my doors. I don’t believe this is an easy decision though, and if neither of you are truly ready to make it, no one is stopping us from having more time together. I do however think today would be a good day to discuss our options.” 

Dean closed his eyes and tried to breath. He knew what the options were: stay together and continue working through their communication problems or go their separate ways and seal it with divorce. Pamela was trying to phrase it like it would be a mutual decision but everyone in the room knew who was truly in charge.

Dean wasn’t a praying kind of guy, but for this he was. He knew there was a good chance Cas wouldn’t ever see him the way he once did, and Dean would have to accept that, but they hadn’t come this far just to give it all up. He wasn’t a perfect husband but he wanted more time to try, he wanted more than just a year where half the time they had just spent arguing with one another. 

Deep down he knew if Cas walked away now, Dean could make it through. He had his mom and brother, and he had his son—they were all the love he’d need in his life but he wanted the love he’d been promised years ago. He wanted the love of the man he knew to be his soulmate, love he could confide in and lean on when life got rocky, love he could grow old with.

It’s why it broke his heart to hear that man say from the other side of the couch, “I’m not ready to discuss this yet.”

He couldn’t contain his audible gasp for air, knowing that Cas’s words meant nothing good.

“Dean?” Pamela asked, worry clear in her voice.

He could hardly process what was happening to him. His breathing came out heavy and his vision blurred. 

They’d hardly been in the room ten minutes and Dean knew he was going to lose everything. 

It felt cruel for Cas to not just sever all ties right then and there. Why make Dean wait longer for him to decide what he’d wanted all along? Why string Dean along for a second longer when all he had to do was say he wanted to move on and he’d be rid of Dean forever? 

How could Cas not know by now what he wanted? How could they have spent an entire year here and he still wasn’t ready to discuss this one final thing? 

It broke Dean’s heart to realize that maybe Cas just didn’t know how to let him down easy. Dean knew his heart was on his sleeve here and he knew Cas was too kind of a soul to willingly crush someone like this. It made sense that he wouldn’t want to shatter Dean by saying that he was happier without him. 

He knew the wait would kill him but he hoped it would help to have a few more weeks to build up his strength to prepare to hear Cas’s final decision. 

“I’ll wait for him to decide, but I think we all know what I want,” Dean said softly. He practiced breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth a few times before he gathered the courage to say his parting words, knowing he couldn’t sit in this room and countdown the minutes until Cas inevitably broke his heart.

“This should be your choice,” He said to his husband, watching those brilliant blue eyes turn to him and stare. “I fucked everything up and I get it now… I should’ve done better. I should have been the husband I vowed I’d be but I wasn’t. So… I know this needs to be your choice... whatever happens now it’s your choice. But I’ve always known what I wanted.”

He rubbed his sweaty palms up and down the thighs of his jeans, trying to quell the anxiety he was feeling. He just had to get the words out and he’d be gone.

“I… I know it’s not looking good for me,” he said, his lip quivering against his will. “I know I wasn’t a good husband for a while. I should’ve talked to you more, I should have listened to what you were saying instead of assuming I knew what was best for our family. I should’ve tried harder and valued what you had to say more. I know that now and I’m so sorry I did that to you… to us. Just… no matter what you choose, I just… I want you to know that I just want you to be happy. Maybe that’s not with me anymore and I get that and I love you enough to tell you that if you need to move on, then you should. You deserve everything Cas, so whatever you choose, I just hope you get all the happiness in the world.”

It was all he could say and he hoped Cas understood. Dean’s heart would be broken and he’d probably never allow anyone in it again, not in that way, but he’d be okay knowing that Cas could someday be happy. 

He didn’t think that pulling himself off the couch would be one of the hardest things he’d ever done in his life but it was. With unsteady feet he crossed the room, not knowing what would happen next but knowing he was at least giving Cas a shot a good life.


	13. Chapter 13

“Wait.”

Part of him wanted to just go, to run out and avoid whatever Cas could possibly say next, but he knew he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t just walk away from this, not when there was even a sliver of hope this could work out. 

His hand pulled back from where it’d been about to grab the door handle, turning towards the broken voice he’d just heard call to him.

The look in Cas’s eyes, the tortured devastation, tore Dean apart, but all he could do was wait, staring at Cas and wondering if this was it. Was Cas going to let him down easy? Or was he just going to rip it off like a band aide?

Dean’s feet were rooted to the spot, waiting for what could’ve been hours, but when it came to Cas, Dean was willing to wait a lifetime. 

“It just... it felt like you were never happy with our life,” the words came out raw, Cas’s eyes glistening with unshed tears. “You always wanted more. You were never satisfied with what we had and had to keep chasing after the next dream. I couldn’t handle knowing that someday you’d realize I wasn’t enough anymore either.”

Guilt overcame him for putting his love through that. For failing so much as a husband that the man he vowed his life too didn’t know, down to his soul, that Dean would always look at him and know that Cas was more than anything Dean deserved. The fear of losing Cas, of one day waking up to realize Cas had gotten fed up with being with someone as imperfect as Dean made him want to better himself, it made him want to push himself harder and harder to be a man that Cas could love forever. 

“I was doing it all for you,” Dean admitted, through his tears. “It’s always been for you. I wanted—I want to give you _everything._ I want to be enough for you and make you proud of who you married. I just want a good life for you where you don’t have to want for anything, Cas. I just—didn’t want you looking at your life and realizing you should have chosen some successful businessman or producer over someone like me.”

The urge to run overwhelmed him as Cas rose up from the couch and took a few tentative steps in Dean’s direction. A storm swirled behind the other man’s eyes, threatening to knock Dean off his feet. He’d only seen a hurricane like that a few times in his life and he wasn’t prepared for this one to hit land. 

“I would take you anyway I could have you,” Cas cried, words coming out harsh and raw as his jaw clenched tightly. “I’m not in love with what you can provide me, Dean. I’m in love with your soul. I’m in love with the man who sings me my favorite song on my birthday and the man who was so nervous to hold my hand on our first date that he spilled soda all over my lap at the movies. I’m in love with you, for who you are. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be mine and be happy.”

“I’m not happy unless I’m with you. With Jack. I just want my family.” Dean stumbled forward until he collided with Cas in the middle of the room. He pawed at the front of Cas’s shirt as he struggled to get the words out over his shaky breathing. Cas looked beautifully furious as Dean tried to force the words out. 

“I don’t care about any of it if you’re both not there to come home to, Cas. I can’t keep living like this--I can’t keep living without you.” His words were almost unintelligible but Cas seemed to understand, nodding along as Dean sobbed his confession. “I feel like I’m dying. All I want is to be with you. Even now I picture my future and the one thing I’m certain of is that I need you by my side. I want to have more kids with you and more anniversaries and I want to grow old with you, Castiel. I want to hold you every night for the rest of my life and tell you I love you every single day for as long as I’m breathing. You’re my forever. You and Jack. That’s what I want—that’s what I need.”

The tears he shed left dark stains on the front of his shirt and some of Cas’s own tears had fallen down to Dean’s hands where Dean was still gripping the front of Cas’s shirt to keep himself steady. He knees nearly buckled when warm broad hands cradled his cheeks with reverence, the same tender touch Dean had felt on some of his worst days, the touch that made everything feel right in the world, because it was Cas. It was always Cas. 

“Then come home.”

He whimpered pitifully, as all the breath rush from his lungs. He wouldn’t survive if Cas didn’t mean this. He couldn’t take the heartbreak if Cas wasn’t serious. 

“It can’t be that easy, Cas.” He cried, practically begging Cas to not give him such hope. 

“I love you, so I’m going to make it that easy,” Cas cried before pressing their foreheads together, their hot breath collecting between them. “Come home,” he whispered.

Overwhelmed with joy and heartbreak, and overwhelmed with insurmountable love because he got to have another chance--Dean didn’t think there was a time in his life where he’d ever cried so much. 

“I love you,” he breathed into the limited space between them, relishing in the way the words tasted on Cas’s lips when he pressed forward. 

It’d been so long since he’d heard his favorite voice say those words, so long that he forgot what they sounded like on Cas’s lips. A few breaths passed and Dean was certain he wasn’t going to hear them but Cas surprised him by pulling back just enough to look each other in the eyes. The other man’s deep blue eyes still swam in tears but he looked determined as he said, “I love you too.”

It hurt in a way only someone who’d had their shattered heart fused back together could understand. The pieces were never going to be perfect again but the mosaic all this created would forever be better and stronger than where it began. There’d been so many days he didn’t believe they could ever make it to this point, but being here, with Cas’s lips against his, Dean was thankful for the hell they walked through to get to this point. 

“Let me be your family again,” Dean begged, finally letting himself accept that this wasn’t just a dream. He’d get to hold Cas and Jack in his arms again and keep them there forever. He’d get to have everything he dreamed he’d have with Cas. It was going to still be hard and they were still going to have to put in work but for now that didn’t matter. What mattered was that Cas wasn’t letting him go, and Dean would get the chance to prove to him that he could be the man Cas deserved. 

“You always were,” Cas cooed, threading his fingers through Dean’s hair lovingly. His touch still felt so electric to Dean. “You always will be,” he promised. 

And he always would be.

* * *

* * *

* * *

* * *

In all her time she’d been doing this job, assisting irreconcilable couples in trying to reconcile, she’d started to lose the spark she’d had when she was young. The idealism that all love stories could be salvaged, no matter how impossible their story seemed.

Years and years she’s watched couples scream at one another, belittle each other until they had nothing left but molten hatred at their core. It’s changed her fundamentally to be unable to help so many relationships she knew could be salvageable if both parties were willing to try but in this day and age, people didn’t think that way anymore. Too many people saw dating and relationships as always searching for the next best thing instead of investing that energy into the love they had. 

These two though, Castiel and Dean Winchester, these two, they gave her that spark back. She’d had no hope at the beginning for these men who seemed incapable of even looking in each other’s direction but once she heard their story, once she spoke to each of them and felt their pain from losing the love they held so dear, she knew they were different.

Seeing these two fight for what they had built and love one another through one of the rockiest patches of their marriage, she wished more couples could do that, could remember why they married their partner in the first place.

She struggled against the tears that threatened to push their way out but knew it was futile.

The sheer happiness she’d seen in Dean’s eyes and the weight that suddenly lifted off Castiel’s shoulders realizing they didn’t have reason to be apart anymore was worth every ounce of heartbreak she’d witnessed.

They still had far to go, they still had wounds they needed to heal and conversations they needed to get through, but for now those things could wait. They needed to have this moment of happiness and Pamela was more than willing to sit back and smile, remembering why she did what she did.

It wasn’t every day she got to watch two people fall back in love, but it was the most beautiful sight in the world, every time.


End file.
